The Apocalypse
by CerenbusSnapeMalfoy
Summary: The battle of Hogwarts is over, and everyone is dead. Everyone, that is... except for Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Draco who are left to put aside their differences in order to survive the apocalypse.
1. Chapter 1

Just this morning, they were all still here. All the lumbering idiots, all the intelligent wunderkinds, all the pratty smart-arses. All of them. And now, their unmoving bodies lay scattered among the ashen remains of the once-great castle of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Amidst it all, Draco Malfoy stood, arms folded about himself, shivering despite the flames that continued to lick at his feet.

Drawing in a startled breath, he stepped back, stumbling over a dead student and scrambling over a pile of smoldering books, trying to get away from the chaos that surrounded him.

He stared, wide-eyed with fear at a body that had been brutally ripped, limb-from-limb. He smacked his hands over his mouth to suppress the bile that rose in his throat, averting his eyes and stumbling away.

There was so much… death. Everywhere. All around him. He couldn't escape it. It was consuming him, becoming him.

"Malfoy! You're alive!"

Draco turned so sharply he became dizzy and had to sit down, hiding his face behind his hands, panting, fear pulsing through him.

"Are you hurt?" Hermione asked, kneeling in front of him.

"Don't touch me!" he cried, pushing her hands away.

Hermione's face hardened. "Now's not the time to be worried about blood, Malfoy."

"No! That's not it, it was never about blood! But now it is! Look at it, it's everywhere! _Everywhere…" _His eyes held a wild look that frightened Hermione.

"Just calm down." She murmured, keeping her eyes locked on the only soul that she could find that was still alive. Draco Malfoy. He was right now the only thing keeping her from going mad. She had spent the past five hours climbing through the rubble and despairing that the rest of the world had been killed, and she was the sole survivor. And though Malfoy's company was… undesirable at the best of times, at least now she was no longer alone.

Hermione watched in carefully concealed shock as Draco broke down, tears streaming down his cheeks as his eyes darted wildly about, his body rocking with sobs. Nowhere he looked was clean. There was filth and death everywhere. The floor was burnt and covered in blood, the walls were caved in and bodies lay strewn about like ragdolls and it sickened him to the very core.

How had this happened?

No. He wanted to suppress the memory. It was too horrifying.

"Come on, we need to get out of here before it collapses." Hermione murmured, gently pulling the fragile blonde to his feet. He allowed himself to be drawn out of the building, flinching every time he accidentally saw a pair of dead eyes, a face frozen in terror or a mouth hanging open in an endless scream.

Worse was all three on the same face.

He flinched when he heard stone crumble and fall, and Hermione grabbed his arm, making him run. They burst out of the building an instant before more of the ceiling collapsed, hiding its secrets inside forever as it blocked the entrance.

"Oh my god, you're alive!" A voice called, and Hermione squinted to see through the settling dust.

"Ron!"

Ron came into view, carrying his limp sister.

"Oh my god, Ginny…"

"She's fine, just got hit by a rock." Ron murmured, looking down at his sister with worry in his eyes. He glanced at Draco, who hung behind Hermione, his arms drawn to his chest, eyes still frantically darting about. "Is Malfoy… okay?"

Hermione glanced back at him. "I think he's just in shock." She replied quietly, moving to grab the boy's arm and pull him forward. He flinched away from her, saw the humanity behind her eyes, then relaxed and let her lead him on.

The small group of survivors made their way across the castle grounds, getting as far away as possible in case one of the towers fell.

By this time, Draco had regained his composure, and was doing his very best to keep to himself. He purposely walked behind the others, even though he caught himself edging closer to them from time-to-time, and always snapped a rude comment at Hermione when she turned to make sure he was still following them.

"Let's stop here." She murmured, picking a spot where there was still a little grass, and there was less rubble.

Ron set down his sister, gently pushing back a lock of her orange hair from her dirty face. Hermione instantly sat down next to her friend, examining her for injuries.

"Nasty blow to the head, I hope she'll be alright…" Hermione murmured, muttering a few spells to make sure Ginny wasn't in danger of dying. Truthfully, she didn't know any spells to fix internal wounds. If Ginny had a concussion, there was nothing she could do to fix it.

Ron glanced over at Draco, who had sat down as far away from the others as he could whilst still staying within the small clearing. He had his head in his hands and was so motionless one might be convinced he had suddenly become a statue.

Ron turned back to Hermione, who had fallen asleep next to Ginny, exhausted from all that had transpired over the last several months. Ron glanced back over at Draco, sucking in a sharp breath.

What if they were the only people who survived? What if the rest of the world… the wizarding world at the very least, had died? Would it be up to them to continue the magical population?

Taking a deep, calming breath, Ron stood and made his way over to Draco and sat down beside him. If Draco noticed, he didn't let it on.

"Malfoy," Ron murmured.

"What do you want, Weasley?" Draco replied, his voice groggy and thick. He sounded as though he barely had the strength to speak.

"Malfoy… we may be the only survivors. We don't know how widespread this was… I mean… he was so thorough, everything was destroyed. We may be the only ones left."

Draco raised his head, looking at Ron with bloodshot eyes. "Weasley, this isn't making me feel any better-"

"I'm not trying to make you feel better, Malfoy, I'm trying to tell you that we're the only ones left-"

"Yes, I think you have sufficiently made your point, so what?" Draco snapped.

"If we die… magical blood could become extinct."

Draco flinched, eyes widening as the idea sank in. "Muggles will continue to produce muggle-borns…" He murmured, but it was a pathetic attempt at denial.

"We don't know if even the muggles survived, besides, even if they did, there will be no one to teach the muggle-borns to tap into their magic, muggle-borns would produce magic accidentally with no way to learn to control it, muggles would see things we've been hiding from them for centuries, there would be mass chaos, don't you get it, Malfoy we have to keep the magical blood going!" Ron hissed.

Overwhelmed again, Draco held his head in his hands, shaking fingers running through his pale hair.

"I'll have to marry Hermione, and you'll… have to marry my sister." Ron muttered, not at all pleased that his sister would have to produce children with the ferret, but there was nothing else they could do.

"Considering the Weaslett's… how shall I put it, _red-headedness _there's not a doubt in my mind she'd sooner swallow her wand than get with me, besides, Granger has more brains, and mudblood or not, _I've _always valued that over blood purity."

"You and I both know that's not true, besides, Hermione would never go for you."

"And why not?" Draco raised his head wearily, not even attempting to argue that he had indeed cared more for brains than blood. Secretly, anyway.

"Because Malfoy, she's too good for you."

"In what way?"

"In every way, Malfoy! _You can't marry Hermione!"_

"Why not?"

"Because if you marry Hermione, all that's left for me is Ginny! Ginny's my sister!" Ron cried, then glanced at the girls and lowered his voice, not wanting to wake them. "I can't have kids with my bloody sister, Malfoy. If the magical world is to go on, you have to have kids with Ginny, and I have to have kids with Hermione, and they will have kids together and the magical population will continue gradually."

"Who said I wanted to have kids?"

"Malfoy! We're the last magical people, possibly even the last _humans_ on Earth! We have to start the population over again!"

"Why not just let it die out? Don't you think the world would do better without humans? All humans have ever done is throw a spanner in the works. We're cock-ups, the lot of us. We should just… die out."

Ron was silent, staring at Draco for a moment. "Life must go on, Malfoy." He murmured.

"How do we know we're the only survivors, anyway?" Draco suddenly asked, looking up to meet Ron's hard blue gaze.

"Malfoy, everyone was killed-"

"We didn't check. Did you check? I didn't." Draco suddenly stood.

"I don't want to go back there." Ron told Draco's retreating back.

"Someone may have survived." Draco threw over his shoulder.

"Even if someone was still alive in there when we left, they'd be dead by now!" Ron called, but Draco didn't stop.

Ron turned nervously to look at Hermione and Ginny's sleeping forms before running to catch up with Draco. None of them could afford to go anywhere alone, no matter what. The girls would be fine together, but he couldn't let the stubborn blonde get himself killed in the smoldering mass of rubble that Hogwarts now was. If anyone had survived, Ron would give Malfoy a kiss for saving them. If not, he would merely punch him for putting them in danger for no reason.

"Malfoy, I'm not dying for you." Ron warned the blonde who remained several steps ahead of the ginger.

"Noted."

Since when had Slytherin become more valiant than Gryffindor? No way was Ron going to let Malfoy beat him with this bizarre bout of courage. He hurried to walk stride-for-stride with the fellow pureblood.

"What if someone horrible survived, like Bellatrix or-or Voldemort?"

"Voldemort is dead." Draco said with such conviction, Ron was inclined to believe him.

"So who are we looking for?"

_"Honestly,_ Weasley, _anyone _who's alive." Draco snapped, rolling his eyes.

"Right."

Draco climbed over the rubble that used to be the entrance into the once-great castle, Ron following cautiously behind. Inside was mass chaos. Bodies and body-parts alike lay strewn everywhere, blood splattered every inch of every wall, floor and ceiling. The floor was caved in horribly, and it was hard to discern where a natural door was and where walls had been.

"Like I said… everyone's dead." Ron murmured, sub-consciously moving closer to the blonde, staring at the body of someone he had once known.

"There's less damage towards the back of the castle, let's go there." Draco murmured.

"Alright, but let's not stay long? I don't want to get crushed by falling cement."

The two continued on in silence, making sure to steer each other away from dangerous holes in the floor and equally dangerous debris hanging over head. The castle was eerily silent, with the occasional echo of rubble sliding and cracking. Every single body they passed was clearly dead.

"Please… can we go now?" Ron begged after seeing a particularly gruesome corpse.

"Hold on… do you hear that?"

"I can't hear anything over the blood pounding in my ears."

"Shh!"

Ron shut his mouth and listened. After a moment, he heard it too. It was oh-so faint, but it did sound like someone calling for help. Were their ears only playing tricks on them?

"Mind your head." Draco murmured as he slowly made his way towards the sound, the sobs getting louder as they grew closer, and soon, they found a small, shivering Neville Longbottom.

"Oh of all the useless lumps…" Draco's shoulders slumped and he turned away from the pathetic sight.

"Ron!" Neville cried, looking up. He had a bloody gash across his forehead.

"Neville! Do you know if anyone else is alive?" Ron asked, moving over to the boy and helping him to his feet. His arm was very clearly broken, snapped clean in half and hanging at a gross angle.

"I don't know." Neville replied with a sniff.

"Let's keep looking." Draco sighed, his earlier motivation slowly diminishing.

The two boys followed closely behind Draco as he wandered cautiously from room-to-room, eyes scanning for movement and ears straining to hear faint cries for help.

Eventually, even he had to admit that it was highly unlikely that anyone else had survived. Neville only seemed to have survived because he had been under a very sturdy beam which had saved him from falling debris. Still…

Draco froze, hearing another sound that faintly resembled a human voice.

"Do you think there could be others?" Draco murmured hopefully, moving towards the sound.

"Others?" Apparently it had never occurred to Neville that they weren't the only survivors.

"Hush."

The three purebloods moved cautiously forward, keeping an ear out for voices and an eye out for danger.

"Watch it, Longbottom!" Draco hissed, grabbing the boy before he could step in a gaping hole.

"Oh oh uh, th-thanks." Neville stuttered, eyes wide. During the battle, he had gained a lot of courage, but the trauma of all that had transpired since the end of the battle had seemed to revert him to his old ways.

"Do you hear that?" Ron piped up. "Sort of like a… wailing?"

"Frightening, isn't it?" Draco replied absently, listening to the eerie wail.

"Do you think it's a person?"

"Only one way to find out." Draco led the way, one cautious step after another. "Stop, is that… who I think it is?"

"Oh my god, Harry!" Ron cried, rushing towards the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Good God…" Draco muttered, moving over more slowly, eyes staring in horror at where Harry's left arm had been completely ripped off at the shoulder.

Neville retched, turning away and coughing up the last thing he had eaten, the sight of Harry's horrifying wound and the overwhelming scent of blood that clung to absolutely everything making him ill.

"Is he alive?" Ron whimpered. He too had turned away, unable to lay eyes on his decapitated friend.

"I wouldn't be surprised." Draco replied, putting a hand to Harry's neck and feeling for a pulse. "I'll be damned. He's still got a heartbeat."

"He's alive?" Ron cried, turning to look and immediately paling at the sight. He joined Neville in vomiting.

Draco cringed at the sight of Harry's bloody shoulder socket, drawing out his wand and muttering a few spells to clot the wound and keep Harry from losing any more blood. It was a miracle beyond words he wasn't already dead, but heaven forbid the world go without its precious Potter.

"We need to get him out of here." Draco murmured. "Weasley, see if you can find his arm, might be able to stick it back on."

"Are you bloody joking?" Ron cried, his voice echoing in the halls and making rubble fall from the ceilings.

"Mind your volume, Weasley." Draco muttered, holding his breath as a large piece of rubble moved slightly overhead then stopped, hanging dangerously close to falling.

"I don't see his arm, I don't see anyone else who's alive, and I don't hear anything but our impending deaths, let's get out of here." Ron muttered, tugging Draco's shirt impatiently as he stared around in fear.

"Agreed." Draco murmured, pulling Harry up into his arms, keeping the wound pressed against his chest to keep it from brushing against anything along the way, to hopefully keep dirt from it and to hopefully stop any more blood from escaping. "Good thing he's not heavy." Draco muttered unhappily. "Come on then."

It took the boys longer to get out than it did to get in, finding that one particularly narrow passage was inaccessible now that Draco was wider with Harry in his arms. They did, however eventually make their way back to where the girls were still sleeping.

Draco gently laid Harry down, cradling the boy's upper body. "Weasley, help me get his shirt off, have to see the extent of the damage."

"The extent? The extent is it's been cut clean off!" Ron cried.

"No, not a clean cut, I'd say more of a horribly jagged cut, this could become infected." Draco replied, carefully peeling away the material, vigilant to keep the wound on Harry's shoulder covered at all times. "Wake the walking dictionary; maybe she'll know what to do."

With a grumble, Ron moved over and shook Hermione awake, who blinked blearily a moment before she sat up, eyes widening when she saw Harry.

"Oh my god…" She moved over and took out her wand, casting several spells to make sure the wound didn't become infected. "I wish I had some dittany…" She murmured. "But this will have to do."

Draco felt Harry jerk slightly and tightened his hold on the injured boy. The brilliant green eyes flashed open and he tried to sit up.

"Easy Potter." Draco murmured, holding him firmly so he couldn't sit up.

"M-Malfoy?" Harry slurred, both lenses of his glasses broken, he had to squint to see the blonde's face, and even if the lenses weren't shattered, his vision would have been blurred from loss of blood.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione cried, relief making her weak.

"You're one hell of a survivor, Potter. This is your, what, third defiance of death?" Draco murmured uncomfortably, watching Ron heal Neville's broken arm, the two of them sitting next to Ginny, who was still out cold.

Harry was a tad out of it, considering his condition on the other hand he was doing unbelievably well. His eyes, however had grown rather glassy.

"He lost a lot of blood, he'll be needing more."

"We haven't any blood replenishing potion, and I doubt any of it survived all that." Hermione replied.

"We'll have to do it the muggle way then, what's everyone's blood type?"

Hermione looked surprised at the suggestion.

"What? I do know a bit about muggles, Granger, don't look so sodding surprised. Besides, I'm sure you know a spell that will draw blood." Draco snapped.

"Well, Harry is I believe O negative, which is unfortunately rare, and I'm O positive, so it wouldn't be safe for me to give him any of mine, Ron, do you know your blood type?"

"Um, O positive, so is Ginny."

"I uh… I think I'm AB positive." Neville murmured.

"Damn it." Hermione cursed. "None of those are compatible, if Harry was O positive, any of those would work…"

"No sodding chance." Draco slapped his forehead, leaving a bloody handprint on his pale face.

"What?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"I… think I'm O negative…."

"You 'think'?"

"I'm not sure." Draco admitted unhappily.

"Well… safer than any of us…"

"I don't want to!" Draco cried.

"He'll die!"

"I don't care!"

"Malfoy I swear if he dies, I'll kill you!" Ron threatened, coming towards the blonde.

Draco cringed, shaking his head slowly. "Damn it, Potter you owe me…" He muttered, pushing up his sleeve and shoving his thin arm towards Hermione, scowling as she pressed the tip of her wand against the pale flesh into the vein, murmuring a spell. Draco flinched slightly and looked away.

Ron sat back down, still glaring at Draco. After a while Hermione moved the wand to Harry's vein and began transferring the blood.

Draco felt faint, wondering just how dreadful Potter must be feeling.

"There… oh god Malfoy I hope you're right about your blood type."

Draco bit his lip, knowing he was right, he had just added the uncertainty in hopes that she would find the risk too great, considering Harry's body would reject it and he would die within seconds if Draco had the wrong blood type. But instead of dying, a little bit of color returned to his face and he seemed a bit more aware.

"Harry, how are you feeling?" Hermione murmured.

He merely stared at her.

"Harry, can you hear me?"

"Huh yeh…" He murmured, blinking and moving his head back and forth slowly, his eyelids looking heavy.

"Harry, you need to stay awake, okay? How many fingers am I holding?"

"Blimey, Granger, his glasses are broken, he can't see without them, can he?"

"Oh what do you know, Malfoy?" Ron spat.

"No, he's right." Hermione murmured, dropping her hand, feeling silly. "Harry, can you hear me?"

"Mm. Uh-huh." He slurred in reply, struggling to keep his eyes open for more than a half second at a time.

"If you feel as bad as you look, Potter, then it's like hell." Draco murmured and Harry's eyes flashed open again, locking on Malfoy a moment before his lids became heavy once more.

"Well, at least he's aware, he should start waking up a bit more here soon." Hermione murmured, moving back to check on Ginny. They had to keep an eye on her, make sure she didn't start acting strange. If she did, there was a chance she had a concussion.

"We need to find food." Ron murmured, feeling his stomach cramp up.

"We need to find shelter first." Hermione interjected. "A common misconception about living in the wild that often leads people to their deaths. They think they need to find food first, but they actually need to find water and shelter, and by shelter, I mean a place to sleep."

"What's wrong with here?" Ron cried.

"Honestly, Ron, this piece of rock? It's too exposed, we don't know what's out there, it's too dangerous to stay here."

"Can Potter be moved yet though?" Draco interrupted.

Hermione cast her friend a critical eye. "I don't know. Would you be able to carry him again?"

Grumbling, Draco nodded, glaring at Ron who had to carry his sister and Neville whose arm bone was still healing from that wicked snap. It was ridiculous to even consider Hermione. Which left him to have to carry Potter's sorry arse. Lucky him.

"We need to stay away from the castle, as far away as possible." Hermione was saying, packing up the few possessions they had with them.

"Why? Wouldn't it be safer to stay closer?" Neville murmured.

"No, she's right." Draco murmured, looking Hermione in the eye. "Scavengers?" He guessed quietly.

She stared at him, biting her lip, then nodded, looking away. Such a gruesome thought.

"Come on then." She murmured, leading the way.

Draco took up Harry, who was only half-awake, and Ron took his sister, who woke up briefly enough to slur that she was hungry before falling back to sleep.

Hermione led the way, Ron just behind her, Draco behind him and Neville taking up the rear.

"Where do you suppose we should shelter, then Hermione?" Ron asked in his mocking 'must you know everything' tone.

Hermione glanced back at them, biting her lip. "I don't know." She replied quietly.

"How about the shrieking shack?" Draco suggested, panting.

"Brilliant!" Hermione cried, eyes turning to the old building. Not ideally safe, but it would provide enough shelter for the night.

The teens altered their course slightly and fifteen minutes and a lot of complaining later, they had arrived at their destination.

"Here we are." Hermione murmured, carefully pushing open the door, which creaked loudly.

"Spooky." Ron murmured, entering first. "Oh shit, I forgot about him."

"Forgot about who-" Draco set Harry down and turned, stopped, eyes catching the dead form of Severus Snape, covered in blood and lying where the trio had left him. Draco's eyes misted up and he quickly turned away, fighting down new unknown emotions. He wasn't sure how to explain the odd relationship between him and the potions master… they'd always been friendly, but not exactly 'friends'. It wasn't until the sixth year that Draco had begun resenting the man for trying to help him.

_He saved my life, more than once. _Draco thought with a start, biting his knuckle as he glanced back over at his professor's bloody body.

"I'm sorry…" Hermione murmured, feeling she should say more but not knowing quite what.

_So much death… _Draco shook his head, moving over to the far side of the room to sit in the corner, drawing his knees to his chest and hiding his face.

Ron set down his sister beside Harry, who was going in and out of consciousness.

Hermione moved over to Harry. "Take deep breaths, Harry, deep breaths." She held Harry's face and kept his eyes locked on her. He seemed to have trouble focusing, but for the most part, kept eye contact.

Hermione sighed wearily. They had a rough road ahead of them.

**AN: Whatya think? Please review, my friends. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Draco wasn't sure what proper was anymore. Everything just seemed a little improper these days, be it how they spent their first night in the Shrieking Shack, or how they had gotten their first meal as survivors of the apocalypse. But any way you put it, leaving Severus' body there to rot just hadn't seemed proper.

So, Draco had carried the man outside, dark and cold as it was, and had buried him properly. The others hadn't attended the mock funeral, as they were looking after the wounded Harry and Ginny and it just seemed like Draco needed a moment alone with the dead professor. According to Hermione, anyway.

Draco kneeled before the grave, pulling up dead grass. He felt empty. Like the last bit of himself was gone. He knew his parents were dead. And now so was his godfather. His mentor. His guardian. What was he supposed to do now? He had no one in the world. He didn't have to guess what the other's thought of him. Sure, they were being civil, but only because they were all in this mess together. And seeing as they were the only survivors of the magical world, perhaps even of the entire world, it just wouldn't do to murder each other because of some petty school rivalries.

Draco allowed the tears to fall as he raised his face to the starry sky. It just seemed too bright. Too beautiful for the night after the war. Too perfect to be the dusk before the dawn the day after the apocalypse.

Draco's heavy mind was drawn unwillingly back to what had transpired in the past few months. It had all started with a threat. A simple threat. It hadn't been a realistic threat, everyone had laughed at it, of course being as ludicrous as it had been. But it was the night that Lord Voldemort pulled it off that everyone stopped laughing. He had done it. He had succeeded.

He had won.

Even though he was dead. And Draco proclaimed in the name of any god who would listen that Voldemort _was _dead. It just wouldn't do for him to have survived. Voldemort himself had known he wouldn't survive. In fact he had counted on it.

He hadn't, however, counted on a few stray survivors. Unless… he had. That's why he left _them _behind. To finish them off. To destroy anything that was left of the world.

Draco shuddered at the thought, and even at the distance, Draco could hear their foul moaning, their dead droning as the hive mind drove them to slowly wake as dawn drew nearer.

The zombies.

Draco still didn't know how Voldemort had done it. He had figured out that he wouldn't win. Harry was too strong. He had defied Voldemort far too many times, and the Dark Lord had-had enough of it. He had threatened to end the world. To end all life.

And he had been laughed at. Everyone _laughed _at the Dark Lord. Figured after all those years, he had gone mad trying to beat the unbeatable.

They shouldn't have laughed at him. Maybe he wouldn't have felt so driven to prove them all wrong. And he had done it. He had brought the dead back to life and created the apocalypse. He had started small, on islands that were barely populated. And then the sickness spread, first to the Americas and then to the rest of the world. Draco remembered watching a viral video of a television reporter recording a city in Hong Kong being destroyed by the hungry hoards of moaning corpses. That's how he knew that they were the only survivors. He held hope that there were other groups scattered across the world who had survived. But it was such little hope.

From how it had been progressing, Draco had mapped out that the zombies came to life every other day, and every other night. They had been safe yesterday, and they would be safe tonight. But come dawn… they would need to be on the move again.

"Shit, it's hopeless!" Draco cried, throwing a rock and watching as it clattered down the hill, eventually settling to rest at the bottom. But it had lost part of itself on the journey down. It had broken in half, and one of the halves had crumbled. Draco felt like that damn rock. He felt like he had fallen, and that he had come to rest here at this place of utter hopelessness. And that he had lost half of himself along the way. He just wasn't sure what half he was. The whole piece, or the one that had crumbled.

"Draco, are you okay?"

Draco looked up sharply at the tentative voice to see Hermione carefully moving towards him.

Quickly scrubbing his tear-stained face, Draco turned back to the great lake and watched the stars reflect on it. "Granger." He greeted with a raspy voice that gave him away.

Hermione crouched down beside him, sharing the magnificent view. "Are you okay?" She repeated, hugging her arms as the night chill cut through her ratty old war-tarnished sweater.

Draco was silent for a moment, eyes lingering on the smoke in the distance that was blotting out a few of his favorite stars, including Draco, the famous Dragon. "I'm not sure." He replied honestly, his heart as heavy as his mind.

Hermione sighed. "Draco… I know you probably feel alone right now… but you're not. Whatever rivalries we had in the past, Draco we're willing to put them aside. We need each other."

Draco turned to scowl at her. "What do you know about how I'm feeling? I'm not alone at all, thank you very much. I don't need you. I don't need any of you!"

Hermione's lips thinned. "I'm willing to ignore that incredibly foolish statement because I know you're hurting. Despite what you think, you do need us. And we need you."

Draco scoffed.

"Don't scoff at me! It's true. We're all in this together."

Draco turned to her with a strange glint in his eyes. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why us? Why out of everyone in the world, why are we the only survivors?" He stood up and spread out his arms to the desolate planet around him, turning a slow circle as if to behold the world which was now empty. "Why… just… tell me why…"

Hermione stared up at him as his arms slowly dropped back down to his sides. "I don't know, Draco. I don't hold the key to the world. But… you can help me find it."

Draco glanced down at her, eyebrow raised. "That… sounds…"

"Like an adventure." Hermione offered with a small smile, standing. She hesitated, then gently wiped away the bloody handprint that was still smeared all over his pale face. She opened her mouth to speak, then not yet trusting herself to do so, brushed off his shoulder, which was covered in soot and gravel. When there was nothing left for her to groom, she finally had to stop skiving. "Make sure you come in before dawn… we plan to move out before then." She murmured carefully, avoiding eye contact.

Draco nodded dumbly, not trusting himself to speak without bursting into tears.

Hermione offered him a faltering smile and headed back for the old building. Stopping just at the door, Hermione glanced back at Draco, who had turned back to the lake which lay spread before him like a dark blanket across the dead valley.

"Oh, Draco? I heard you and Ronald talking earlier… and you're right. Ginny's red-headedness definitely will get in the way." With a small smirk, Hermione disappeared into the Shrieking Shack, leaving a blushing Draco to watch the night slowly fade to day.

**AN: Sorry I haven't updated in a while... thanks for all your amazing reviews. Let me know what you think should happen next!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Draco didn't sleep at all that night. He knew that it was perhaps foolish to not even try to close his eyes, but he felt waking up to ash and dust would be even more depressing than sitting all night to watch it settle.

The six of them left, as Hermione had said, just before dawn, so as to avoid the zombies that no doubt would be swarming Hogwarts by now. Draco once again was tasked with carrying Harry, who was only slightly more awake now than he had been when Draco first found him. Draco had checked his wound, which was showing no signs of healing yet, but fortunately wasn't bleeding anymore, nor was it infected.

Ginny was going in and out of consciousness the way she had the day before, but managed to walk on her own for ten minutes before Ron had to carry her again. Neville continued to complain to Hermione that he felt a twinge of pain in his stomach to the point where she was growling at him that there was nothing she could do about it.

They managed to avoid zombies for a good part of the day, however just before evening, they ran into a hoard of the dreaded creatures.

"Run!" Their magic, for whatever reason, was weak. Ever since Voldemort succeeded in his evil plot, just before everything died, everyone Hermione knew had been complaining that their magic wore them out. Or that their magic was far weaker than it used to be. She wouldn't have believed it if she herself hadn't experienced the same awful sensation that half of her magic had been stripped away.

And so, Hermione cast a spell with all her might, nearly straining herself to the point of exhaustion just with a simple stupify that sent the hoard reeling backwards, while the others turned and ran. She stumbled after them, relieved that the undead beings were not fast enough to catch them, nor smart enough to find them when they hid in a trench, a small footbridge overhead the only thing keeping them from immediate sight. For the time being, they were safe.

When they first left the grounds the day before, Draco of course hadn't even considered levitating Harry because the use of magic nowadays would be even more _physically_ draining than _physically_ carrying him. "I can't keep going like this for much longer. Potter isn't heavy, but I'll be damned if I don't drop him next time we have to run for it like that." Draco panted, hugging an unconscious Harry to his chest to keep the teen from tumbling out into sight. Ron was holding his sister in a similar fashion across from them and beside Ron and Ginny, Hermione was forced to practically sit in Neville's lap.

"We can't hide here forever, it's too cramped." Ron muttered, his neck tilted at an awkward angle as the bridge wasn't high enough to offer any headroom.

"Hermione, you're squishing me…" Neville whined.

"Oh quit it, Neville. I'm not that heavy!" Hermione hissed, frowning deeply and attempting to move forward slightly to no avail. There was a bit of uncomfortable scrambling as Ron and Draco attempted to maneuver their legs in such a way that they weren't kicking each other in the crotch, but it was a losing battle and they eventually just stopped trying to avoid further awkwardness.

"Hermione… what're we going to do?" Ron begged, flinching when a zombie stumbled across the bridge overhead.

"For starters we're _not _going to panic." Hermione replied, squaring her shoulders and attempting to look brave. She looked from Ron's hopeful but desperate blue eyes over to Draco's silver gaze, lined with calm terror. "Neville?"

"Not panic. Right." Neville confirmed waveringly, shifting uncomfortably under her weight.

All of them froze and held their breaths as dirt sifted through the cracks of the footbridge, another zombie slowly stumbling across.

"It's not safe to move at the moment." Hermione murmured, shielding her eyes as more soot and dirt fell through.

"I don't think staying is a good idea either." Draco replied, drawing himself further under the cover, staring fearfully at the zombies in the distance who would be able to see them easily if they were smart enough to look.

"Well then what do you suggest, Malfoy? I'd be glad to hear it!"

_"Ronald." _Hermione hissed. "Now's _not _the time for fighting amongst ourselves!"

Ron bit his lip and muttered something that sounded like 'sorry'.

"I'm exhausted after that spell." Hermione admitted, her shoulders slumping and her grip on her wand loosening. "I simply haven't any idea why magic is so physically trying now…"

"Maybe it's a delightful little add-on to You-Know-The Hell-Who's curse." Draco grumbled and the others nodded in agreement.

It was the only plausible explanation. Magic didn't just… stop working properly. With all that was going on, what with everyone, you know… _dying _there hadn't been a chance for the experts to properly inspect all the possibilities.

Harry moaned and started moving, interrupting the brooding silence that had settled over the weary teens.

"Bloody hell, keep him quiet Malfoy!" Ron hissed, and Draco desperately hugged Harry closer, holding the teen's head tightly against his chest. Harry moaned again, sending chills down the spines of those who were awake and aware of the situation.

"Shh, shh! Potter shh it's okay!" Draco whispered frantically, but the tighter he held onto Harry, the more Harry moaned and fought feebly to free himself.

"Keep him quiet, damn you!" Ron whined, flinching when a nearby zombie seemed to hear the commotion and was dumbly looking around for it.

Draco clenched his teeth together to keep from snapping back at the damned weasel. "Potter, please, please be quiet." He whispered, shakily patting the side of Harry's face, rocking back and forth gently.

Harry's eyes opened blearily for a moment before they closed again, his rigid body relaxing back into Draco's shivering embrace.

"Shh, that's right, it's alright Potter." Draco was too frightened to consider how much he would hate himself for this later, continuing to pat the side of Harry's head and sway as it seemed to calm the delirious teen. Draco, Hermione, Ron and Neville let out simultaneous breaths of relief when Harry seemed to fall back to sleep.

"We need to get out of here, there's too many zombies around." Neville whispered, and he was so close behind Hermione that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. She leaned back slightly into his chest to allow her legs to stretch and heard him grunt at the added pressure.

"Sorry Neville, my leg fell asleep." Hermione whispered, resuming her original position. "You're right but there's no possible way we'll be able to make it anywhere else with all these zombies around. We're better off staying here until tomorrow, when they'll all be sleeping again."

"You mean we have to spend the night here, with those _things _roaming about so close?" Ron whimpered.

Hermione nodded tersely.

No one knew what to say, and for a good twenty minutes, no one said anything.

"Blimey, I'm starving." Ron finally broke the silence after listening to nothing but the zombie's moan and feast became unbearable.

"Is that all you think about, Weasley? You're stomach?" Draco scoffed quietly, raising his head slightly from where it had been tiredly leaned against Harry's.

"No." Ron replied testily. "It's just all I can think about right now. I haven't eaten in days, may I remind you."

"Nor have I, or any of us for the matter, may I remind _you." _Draco retorted.

"Good, then you can suffer with me."

"Boys, if you please?" Hermione hissed, sitting forward from where she had been leaning back against a sleeping Neville.

Ron and Draco looked down and murmured similar halfhearted apologies.

Another five minutes went by, and Ginny woke up. It took a few moments of quiet coercing to convince her that she was still alive, and then she seemed to think that Draco was an angel. She continued to point out that he was white for the next ten minutes, making Draco blush furiously every time.

"Bloody hell, how hard did she hit her head?" Draco muttered after she fell asleep again.

"Pretty hard. Had to 'ave been to be convinced you're an angel." Ron muttered, gently pushing back a lock of sooty red hair from his sister's face, pale under all the dirt.

Draco's lips twitched, but one look from Hermione kept him from opening his mouth to retort.

From then on until morning, they took turns sleeping. Not much happened, with exception of the heart-attack moment when a disembodied limb dropped down two feet from Draco's side. Hermione only just managed to jam her arm back into Neville's face in time to withhold his scream when a zombie dove on top of it and began ravaging it right in front of them. Otherwise, they had a quiet, albeit unpleasantly cramped evening, and an even quieter night.

Draco woke the next morning, his face buried in Potter's mess of black hair, lungs screaming for breathable oxygen. "Good lord, what is that rotten stench?" He gagged, attempting to move and achieving nothing but sending tingles through his numb body.

"Gee, I wonder." Hermione grumbled in reply, rubbing her sore eyes.

"Shut up and do something useful, will you? Like getting Potter off my lap, he's bloody killing me." Draco moaned, so ready to straighten out the massive curve that was now in his spine and massage the painful kink in his neck.

The others were no worse for wear. Hermione, Ginny and Harry, who were all fairly un-squished, faired the easiest of the six of them. Rather than continue to argue, Hermione stood and made her way over to the other side, taking Harry by the legs and gently dragging him until Draco could crawl out from under him.

"Sweet Merlin, it's finally morning." Ron yawned, dragging himself out from under the shelter and cracking his back.

"I can't feel my legs." Draco griped, laying flat on his back, arms and legs stretched out like a starfish.

Hermione moaned, stretching her legs. Neville muttered darkly under his breath, massaging his knees, twisting his torso left and right and attempting to pop his neck.

"That was the worst twenty four hours of my bloody life." Ron muttered crossly.

"Twelve, Ron." Hermione yawned.

"What?"

"We walked most of the day yesterday, and only had to hide a few hours before nightfall so we spent only a little over twelve hours under that bridge." She told him, checking on Harry and then on Ginny.

"Whatever. Might as well have been weeks, as achy as I am right now."

"For once we agree on something Weasley." Draco muttered from where he lay on the ground, his eyes still closed. "Granger's off her rocker. There's no way we were under there for less than twenty hours."

"You two are just being whiny babies about it. Now are you going to spend the rest of our time complaining about it, or would you rather set out to find food, and a better shelter? Or, if you prefer, we could stay here until the zombies wake back up, and we can curl up under that bridge for a real twenty-four hours until they're sleeping again."

"No, no. Just give me a second." Draco muttered, pulling himself to his feet. "My arms are begging for mercy." He grunted as he bent down to retrieve Harry from the ground. "Oh... Lord..." He groaned.

"Yeah, well use your wand and we'll have to drag both of you." Ron retorted, plucking up Ginny, who seemed lighter each time he carried her.

Draco replied with a noncommittal grunt, endeavoring to curl Harry a little more in his grasp to make him easier to carry. Harry woke briefly, slung his only arm over Draco's shoulders, tucked his head under Draco's chin and fell back into the trance-like state he'd been in since they had found him. Draco rolled his eyes.

"We really do need to find food soon." Hermione sighed wearily, attempting to retie her hair, which had slowly but surely fallen out of the string's hold.

"Where do the zombies go, when they sleep?" Ron wondered aloud, shifting his hold on his sister.

"Don't care, so long as it's far away from me." Draco replied.

"Where could we possibly find food? Wouldn't the zombies have eaten it all?" Neville interrupted, continuing on Hermione's line of thought.

"No, they only eat meat. We need to get to a place like Hogsmead or a town with a lot of food stores. We might be able to salvage something there. Any kind of food that they haven't touched should be still eatable."

"What would happen if we ate something they touched?" Neville squeaked.

"Would you care to find out, Longbottom?" Draco glanced back at him, eyebrows raised.

"N-no…"

"Well then consider the foul rot they leave on everything, and think about how tasty a pasty would be after one of them touched it, and there's your answer."

Neville shuddered visibly, possibly attempting to shake the thought from his mind.

Without another word, the worn-out teens pressed on, determined to survive the apocalypse, together.

**AN: So, will they be able to find eatable food? Are Ginny and Harry going to survive in their dreadful conditions? Reviews are greatly appreciated! :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The six hungry and exhausted teens continued on for hopeless hours of seeing nothing but ruin and untouchable filth. Hours of walking aimlessly, their wounds stinging, their limbs burning, the stab of hunger gnawing at their stomachs. Like knives to the gut, like needles to the bone, like ropes bound tightly over muscle, like bricks crushing the lungs. It was torturous.

And finally… the blessed moment came.

"Is… that looks like…" Ron whispered, stumbling slightly and readjusting his hold on Ginny.

"A town! It's not been burned down!" Hermione cried in delight, relief and exhaustion making her weak at the knees. "Come on!"

As quickly as their aching legs could carry them, they made their way across the charred ground and came to the empty town. Not another soul was visible. There were animals there, but none that Hermione couldn't scare away with a quick spell that left her leaning heavily on Neville for support.

"Food! Look Hermione! Is it eatable?" Neville cried, pointing delightedly into a store window, one arm around her.

Hermione slung an arm over Neville's shoulder, practically hanging off of him. She pressed her face against the glass, nodding and grinning tiredly.

With strength that surprised everyone, Neville scooped up Hermione so she would be out of the way while he kicked open the locked door.

Draco set Harry down behind the counter of the store and Ron put Ginny just beside him. "How are we going to get them to eat?" Draco asked between bites of bread he was already grabbing and eating. He dropped to his knees like a bag of cement. His legs felt like rubber.

Ron was stuffing his mouth with some cupcakes and Hermione and Neville were feasting on the cookies.

"Mm, we're gonna- we're gonna have to wake them up long enough to get them to eat something." Hermione replied, holding a hand over her mouth because she was chewing.

Ron ate a few more bites before dropping down beside his sister. He managed to wake her after a few gentle prods, and began tempting her with a cookie.

Draco did the same with Harry, who he practically had to force feed. "Granger, he won't eat it!" He cried, watching as Harry spat out another piece of bread.

Hermione came around wearily, worry on her face. She wiped crumbs from her chin and dropped down beside her friend, relieved to get off her feet. "Harry, can you hear me?" She whispered, stroking his cheek.

Harry's eyes opened blearily for a moment before he closed them again. Draco had gone back to eating, but was watching Hermione and Harry closely.

"Harry, you need to eat." She murmured, shaking him gently. His eyes opened again. "Please Harry, you must be hungry." She held a cookie in front of his mouth for a moment before he weakly opened it. Hermione smiled and fed him the cookie, which he very slowly managed to eat.

"Not very good for you, but it's got plenty of sugar which will give you energy." She murmured, helping him eat another with one hand, feeding herself with the other.

"Longbottom, come on we need to check out the rest of the town, see if there's anything we can salvage." Draco sighed, wiping the crumbs from the front of his shirt.

Neville's shoulders slumped, as he was still happily feasting on cookies and bread. "Can't we rest a bit?" He whined through his mouthful, crumbs spilled down his chin.

Draco shook his head. "We need to get it over with now, we can't stay here too long. Believe me, I'd rather just sit around all day too, but we need to get this done."

"Malfoy's right, Neville." Hermione murmured. "Good thinking, by the way. Here's my bag. It's got an undetectable extension charm on it, so you can put in just about anything." Hermione unhooked the bag from her belt, handing it to Draco absently, her full attention still on Harry. "Don't lose it. Oh, and don't be gone long. And don't go too far."

"Your wish is my command, my lady." Draco rolled his eyes, jerking his head for Neville to follow.

"What a git." Ron muttered when they had left.

"Ron." Hermione warned with a sigh, glad Ron at least waited until Draco was out of earshot. "Don't start. We need each other. The moment we start fighting amongst ourselves, we're doomed."

Ron muttered dark nothings under his breath, continuing to feed Ginny who kept falling back to sleep. "Hermione, how long does a concussion last without treatment? Is there a chance that it could be permanent?" He suddenly asked, worried.

"Well…" Hermione began slowly. _"Most _concussions will heal themselves on their own over time… some more severe head trauma… can lead to some very severe problems if not treated."

Ron bit his lip, staring down at his little sister worriedly.

"We'll figure something out, Ron." Hermione murmured, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"HERMIONE!" Neville burst back into the little bakery, Draco right on his heels.

"What? What's wrong?" Hermione jumped up.

"We need to leave, _right_ _now." _Draco was leaning heavily against the door, while something clawed and beat against it on the other side.

"But we _just_ _got here _what happened?" Hermione stepped back, eyes wide.

"What the hell did you do?" Ron cried, collecting his sister from the floor.

"Don't look at me! It was Longbottom's fault!" Draco cried, grunting and throwing all his full weight against the door to keep it closed.

"What is that thing?" Hermione helped Neville attempt to lift Harry.

"A Sphinx. A _very angry _Sphinx. She was sleeping and _Longbottom _had to go and trip over her!" Draco screamed, slamming his body against the door to shut it when the Sphinx managed to get it open a peek, a huge lion-like paw leaving long scratch marks on the side of the door.

"It was an accident!" Neville wailed, losing his grip on Harry's legs while Hermione fumbled with her hold on Harry's upper body.

"Don't drop him!" Ron cried, cradling his sister and watching the door with wide eyes.

"Ron, is there a back way out of here?" Hermione snapped.

"I don't know!"

"Well check!"

Draco let out a scream when the Sphinx slammed into the door again, knocking him away from it long enough for the creature to stick her head and one paw through. Her almond-shaped, hazel eyes shifted from one person to the next, her large paw swiping dangerously close to Draco's right arm. Draco screamed in pain when one of her claws hooked into his shoulder.

"Damn it Weasley hurry up!" Draco shrieked, backpedaling furiously against the floor to keep the door shut. He let out a grunt when the beast slammed herself against the door, knocking the air out of him. His head slammed back against the hard surface, causing pain to radiate through the back of his skull. He saw stars for a moment, and his head felt suddenly too heavy for his neck to hold up. He could already feel warm liquid dripping down the back of his neck.

_Great. _He thought sarcastically. _Just what we need, another concussion._

"There's no way out!" Ron cried, coming back from the back room. "We're trapped!"

"W-why don't we apparate?" Neville cried.

Hermione shook her head. "Apparition takes too much magical strength, which none of us have right now. We'd risk splinching ourselves and each other… Harry can't really afford to lose any more limbs right now."

"Then-ugh- what do you suggest, oh great knowledgeable one?" Draco grunted, wincing when the back of his head bumped the door again. He felt he could pass out at any moment.

Hermione ignored his sarcastic quip. "Sphinx's are capable of human speech, maybe we can reason with her…" She eyed the creature skeptically.

"By all means, try!" Draco begged, ready to pull a muscle trying to keep the door shut.

"I'm sorry I disturbed you!" Neville wailed. "It was an accident!"

The Sphinx gave him a grumpy glare before tearing her head back out of the door, causing Draco to stumble back when the door shut completely. He slid to the floor, panting, wearily raising a hand to the back of his head. He was relieved to see that not too much blood came off on his hand. He still felt sick to his stomach, though, and slightly dizzy.

The Sphinx calmly padded over to the shop window and sat, her tail curling over her front paws. She glared into the shop, eyes pointed directly at a trembling Neville.

"Is she going to keep us here?" Draco cried, standing and peering through the window cautiously. He jumped back when the Sphinx moodily swiped at the window where he stood.

"We need to be making ground, not staying here! This is not a good place to be when the zombies wake up. No back door, no escape route."

"Well, tell her that, Granger!" Draco snapped.

Hermione glared at him, then marched up to the window. The Sphinx gave her a disparaging glance, obviously unimpressed. "Mizz Sphinx!" Hermione called through the glass. "I'm sorry my friend woke you, he didn't do so out of disrespect, he's just clumsy. We just want to survive this apocalypse. Please, please don't harm us!"

The Sphinx raised a delicate eyebrow, her nose twitching. Her tail flicked irritably, pointing at Neville. "Scum." She muttered in a thick Egyptian accent. "Woke me."

"Yes, I'm sorry he woke you." Hermione repeated. "What's your name?" She asked in hopes of perhaps befriending the creature. "My name is Hermione."

The Sphinx's tail twitched again. "Jamila."

"That's a lovely name." Hermione replied.

"What has four fingers and a thumb, but is not living?" Jamila quizzed. Sphinxes after all were renowned for their love of riddles.

"May I answer?" Draco asked, appearing next to Hermione.

Jamila glanced at him, and dipped her head.

"I believe, then, that the answer is a glove." Draco replied.

Jamila seemed pleased. "What tastes, better than it smells?"

By now, Ron and Neville had slowly made their way forward, Neville with much trepidation.

Hermione and Draco murmured together for a moment, seemingly trying to decide between two different answers. "It wouldn't be a food, that's too simple." Draco protested and Hermione nodded in agreement.

"A tongue?" She answered for the both of them, hopefully.

"What asks, but never answers?" Being that Jamila did not get angry, Hermione assumed she had gotten the last one correct.

This time, all four of them put their heads together.

"That one's easy, what creature asks 'who who' all the time?" Ron murmured.

"An owl." Draco answered for the group, turning back to the Sphinx.

"You are all clever." Jamila said at last. "But those are all simple riddles. Answer me this; there is a certain crime that if attempted, is punishable, but if committed, is not punishable. What is this crime?"

The four teens looked dumbstruck, nervously talking amongst themselves to attempt to solve the riddle.

Neville was silent. He knew the answer. But what if he was wrong? The others were arguing desperately, and the Sphinx seemed to be getting irritated. Neville bit his lip, clenched his fists and tried to keep from shouting it out. What if he was wrong? At last, when it seemed the Sphinx would break through the window and eat them all, Neville could no longer remain silent.

"Suicide!" He cried, flinching when all eyes turned on him, Jamila included.

"You are certain this is your answer?" She asked.

Neville shuffled in place, then nodded.

"Then congratulations. You May live." She smiled, showing off impressive fangs, then turned and padded away.

Everyone was still staring at Neville, dumbfounded. "Neville… how did you know that?" Hermione asked. Now that she thought about it, it made sense, but it wasn't something that immediately came to mind.

"Well… suicide is a crime… and is punishable if you attempt it… but if you commit it… well you're dead. You can't be punished." Neville murmured, staring at the floor.

Draco nodded approvingly, patting Neville on the shoulder. He had a newfound respect for the pushover. With a weary sigh, he slumped passed and slid to the floor next to Harry.

"Well… now that _that's _over… let's pack up as much as we can carry and get the hell out of here." Ron sighed, shaking his head and massaging his temples.

"Oh, no… Weasley." Draco whined, cringing. "Shouldn't we at least stay the night? You know, shelter… away from the elements, no zombies until morning… less cramped than under a bridge?" He was not at all keen on the idea of setting off right away. He didn't know about the others, but he just held back an overly-large lion creature after spending most of the day carrying Potter's dead weight, on an empty stomach, too. He was fatigued to the point that he felt depressed about it. The thought of lugging Potter's sorry arse another fifteen miles pushed him towards Neville's unpunishable crime.

"I agree. We're all far too exhausted to keep moving, leaving now isn't a good idea, we'd drop dead within the hour. We need to rest up in shelter while we have it, and we can set off just before dawn, like last time." Hermione murmured, moving around the others so she could slump down next to Ginny, Neville following suit.

"What about the zombies? Shouldn't we try to get further away?" Ron sat on Ginny's other side.

"We're far enough away from the bridge now that they won't catch us unless we stay here all day tomorrow. Also it doesn't seem like they've been here yet, so they might not come here at all."

They were all silent for a moment.

Ron shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm still hungry."

"Well… in most instances I'd say we should try to ration the food, but it's stale as is… we should probably eat as much as we can before it spoils." Hermione said thoughtfully.

All three boys grabbed another cookie at that, and Hermione attempted to get Harry and Ginny to eat more before giving up and eating one herself.

"Hermione?" Neville murmured, leaning his head on her shoulder.

"Yes, Neville?" Hermione sighed, stretching out her sore legs.

"What are we going to do… if Ginny or… or Harry dies…?"

Everyone was silent for a moment at that thought.

"I won't let them." Ron decided at last.

Draco turned his head towards Ron, who sat to his right, Harry between them. "Weasley, not everything is in your hands. Some things are just beyond your control." He attempted a very neutral tone, not wanting to set the red-head off on him.

Ron leveled him a hefty glare. "I said I won't let them." He growled.

Draco lifted his hands wearily in a surrendering gesture, allowing them to drop back down beside him. He stared down at his hand, eyes traveling an inch to the right to see nothing but Harry's leg. Draco's hand should have fallen on top of Harry's. But Harry only had one arm now. It was still such a strange feeling, looking at the boy he had known a good portion of his life, in such a weak and altered state.

It was then that Draco realized that Harry's head at some point had shifted to rest on his shoulder. Draco glanced over at the others huddled closely together, already asleep. Neville was snuggled up on Hermione's right, Hermione's head was on Ginny's shoulder, Ginny was using Ron's chest as a Pillow, and Ron was hugging Harry's arm, his head snuggled between Ginny's and Hermione's.

They were all so close. Had been friends since they started school. Draco felt a sudden and unexpected blow of jealousy. And then he glanced back down at Harry, who, despite his friends all being to his right, was leaning to his left, head resting on Draco's injured shoulder. Draco didn't mind too much. If it meant that Potter was accepting him as one of them… then he could lean his big, stupid, scarred head on Draco's hurt shoulder any day.

**AN: So Draco's slowly becoming accustomed to his companions. Let me know who you think should end up with who, and who you think will survive! Review my loves! :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Hermione woke the next morning at dawn precisely. She had a disciplined mind to the point where she could wake herself on command. The others did not. Despite her persistent poking, shaking, prodding and yelling, they were all far too exhausted to wake.

Hermione went back to sleep, allowing them another hour before she began waking them again. They really didn't have time to be just laying around, a nice, fresh meal for the zombies.

Draco woke the third time she tried to wake him, Neville the fifth and Ron the tenth. She didn't bother trying to wake Harry or Ginny this time. They didn't need to be awake anyway. Despite this, Harry woke with the others and for the first time since they had found him, he looked fully aware. Draco was having a hard time convincing the poor boy that his arm was _gone _and there was _no getting it back. _Harry kept adamantly begging for another solution, and Draco patiently kept telling him that he would have to learn to get on with just one arm.

Neville and Ron went out to check the horizon, returning to say that nothing could be seen for miles. "As far as I can tell, there isn't another being, living or dead for miles. I think we can afford to stay here the day."

Hermione was shaking her head before he even finished. "It's too dangerous. It's like a dead end, staying here. If the zombies suddenly start pouring in, we'll be trapped."

"Well if we're going to move, we should move now, before the zombies realize they missed a spot." Draco sighed, already pulling a wobbly Harry to his feet. "Can you walk yet?"

Harry began nodding, then immediately shook his head no, looking ill from the suddenly weight on his legs. Draco instantly took Harry's arm and put it over his shoulders. "Well sorry, but I can't carry you again, you're not heavy but this is just killing me, day-in and day-out lugging your sorry arse… my limbs feel like jelly."

"Well at least you have all of your limbs." Harry's embittered reply was barely loud enough to be heard, but Draco was close enough to hear it. It gave him pause. Harry was right, of course. Draco had no right to complain, as he had the pleasure of keeping both his arms, though they all knew he'd go on complaining about it anyway. Draco could feel a retort at the tip of his tongue, but nothing he could come up with sounded good in his head, so he knew they wouldn't sound any better aloud. He wisely, and rather out of character, chose to keep his mouth shut.

"Shh, it's okay Gin'. You're okay." Ron tenderly lifted his whimpering sister, whose head wound seemed to have become infected overnight. "Hermione, she's not doing so good."

Hermione bit her lip, staring at her friend for a moment, then out the door, and made the decision for all of them. "We can't stay here any longer, Ron. If we do, we would be taking a huge risk. We need to leave now while we can."

Ron, defeated, looked down at his trembling little sister. Ginny's flesh was grey beneath the dirt, but the one spot on her head looked raw and blistered. It was gross, but not quite to the same degree as Harry's wound before it had begun healing.

Hermione sighed, trembling fingers messing with her hair which was filthy and entangled with twigs and rubble and lathered in soot. They all looked like that, really. Draco's normally white-blonde hair was reduced to a dull grey, and Ron's normally lush red locks were a matted brown mass of soot.

After a half hour of walking, they were all feeling the gravel in their boots, the grit in their pants and the stiffness in their shirts. Their skin felt tight, caked with blood and soot, and every part of their bodies itched. It was torturous, and something they hadn't noticed the first days they were surviving. The adrenaline had kept the burning feeling of disgust at bay, and now, after resting, they all felt it tenfold.

"God, I could really go for a bath. I don't care if the water's cold, I just want to get rid of the preliminary layer of refuse." Draco muttered, scratching at a dry, crusty patch of mud that was irritating a burn on his cheek. That only made it burn worse, but his mind instantly shifted to the ever-present pain in his shoulder. He wished he could switch sides with Harry, because the one side of him was becoming exhausted from Harry's constant dead weight, but, of course, Harry only had the one bloody arm.

"I don't think we'll be finding a working washtub anytime soon, Malfoy, so you might as well not complain about it." Ron growled from up front, his strides stiff and determined. He seemed to be the least bothered by any of the combined symptoms of poor hygiene and open wounds, or at least was whining about it the least.

"Ron," Hermione warned. "But… he's right Draco. No use torturing yourself and the rest of us by complaining about it. Carry on."

"Easy for you to say." Draco panted. "I bet you don't have an entire mountain in your boots."

"Everyone has rubble in their boots, Malfoy." Hermione sighed. "You're the only one pointing it out."

Draco's nose twitched. "Well Longbottom's the only one complaining about being thirsty. I wouldn't be, yet, if it weren't for him."

"Hey! I haven't complained about that in… like… three minutes…" Neville trailed off, suddenly looking embarrassed.

"It's okay, Neville. We're all thirsty. We'll find water soon." Hermione smiled weakly, rubbing her friend's shoulder.

"We better find some soon-"

"We get it, Malfoy, you're thirsty." Ron snapped.

Draco looked abashed. "I was… just. Potter doesn't look so good."

They all immediately stopped walking so they could gawk at Harry, who was panting and hanging heavily on Draco, who was struggling at this point to keep him up.

"Hermione, what if we can't find water?" Neville whimpered.

"Hush, Neville. We'll find some." Hermione murmured, a cloud drifting over her face as she turned back to the uneven ground and continued on. Ron hadn't stopped, he was several long strides ahead of Draco, Harry and Neville, who were the stragglers. "Keep up, guys."

"Keep up, she says." Draco muttered darkly. "Longbottom, is your arm healed enough to take him for a bit? If I don't get some relief for my arm soon, I'm going to drop him."

Neville contemplated his own arm, which Ron had attempted to heal after they'd found him. It wasn't a great fix, considering the low reserves of magic, but he figured he could manage Harry long enough for Draco to have a break.

Transferring Harry to Neville was an uncomfortable scramble, and Neville nearly dropped him the moment he bore his full weight. Draco winced and rolled his eyes, but then allowed the relief to show on his face. The entire left side of his body was so fatigued, it felt numb. "Thanks," he said, and even managed to sound grateful.

The others, who hadn't stopped for them, were now a good distance ahead, and Draco suddenly had the evil, unbearable urge to race to catch up with them. Under any other circumstances, he would have left Neville and Harry behind without a second thought but… well his chances of winning everyone over were slimmer without the gentle Neville and the forgiving Harry.

So instead, Draco resigned himself to set his pace slow enough that Neville and Harry weren't too far behind him, and Ron and Hermione weren't too far ahead. This, of course, left him smack dab in the middle, and alone, too. Of course, now that he didn't have Harry weighing him down, should he need to run for any reason, he could.

Briefly he considered what he would do if they were separated, and who he'd rather be stuck with. Neville and Harry… while they may like Draco more at the moment, were both practically useless. Ron still hated him and had Ginny's dead weight to carry. Hermione… well she was smart and quick, and might refrain from strangling him because of her moral standards and their mutual need for survival. Yes. If ever they were separated and he had only a split-second to decide who to follow, it would probably be Hermione.

They walked for hours. Not another soul for miles, living or dead, but you could tell just by how everything was shriveled up and in ruins that the zombies had been here. The grass was brown and dead, the trees looked shriveled and ready to collapse and a valley where a lake had been… was dried up.

"It's already looking like the end of the world." Hermione lamented, hugging her arms.

"It is, isn't it?" Ron replied bitterly, his narrowed eyes set on the ground ahead.

Hermione glanced at her friend worriedly. "Are you okay, Ron?"

Ron gave her a dirty glance, and she looked away, hurt.

"You know, Ron, the only way we're going to survive this is if we stop fighting amongst ourselves-" Hermione stopped, staring over her shoulder to see that there was nothing behind them. "Ron… where did Neville, Harry and Draco go?"

Ron finally slowed to a stop, swiveling around, eyes darting in every direction. "I don't see them…"

"Damn it, we got too far ahead, they could be in trouble!" Hermione started to go back.

"Hermione, no! We need to keep moving, they'll catch up."

Hermione stopped, looking from Ron, who was already moving again, to the last place she'd seen her other friends. "Ron, we can't leave them! Harry's your best friend, he'd go back for you!"

"I'm not backtracking, Hermione. Come on."

Hermione was rooted to the spot. Go back, or move on? She didn't want to leave Ron alone, and if she couldn't find the others, she'd be alone as well. Draco and Neville would be able to protect themselves, and hopefully Harry as well. But what if they'd been separated as well? They would all be wandering around on their own, vulnerable.

With one last glance at Ron who was steadily moving forward, Hermione turned and dashed in the opposite direction, calling out for Harry, Draco and Neville.

**…**

Draco couldn't understand it. He'd thought it out, too! If they were to be separated, he would have gone with Granger, not gotten stuck with these two!

"Just, just hold on, um… Longbottom, there's some footholds right there… that's it, just a bit closer! Easy! I got him, I got him!" Draco grabbed hold of Harry by the back of his shirt, yanking him up from the dangerous ledge he and Neville had fallen down. It had been Neville's quick spell that had kept them from falling to their deaths, but now, Neville was exhausted and hanging on the cliff face for dear life.

"Come on, Longbottom, just a bit further-" Draco was flat on his stomach, stretched out as far as he dared, hand reaching to help Neville back to safety. Semi-safety at the very least. The ledge Draco and Harry were on was still a ledge, but was far safer than where Neville now stood.

Neville was panting, reaching his hand up as far as he could. His and Draco's fingers brushed, but neither could get a firm hold.

"Neville, if I lean down any farther, I'm going to slide off…" Draco grunted, his chest aching from the hard rock beneath him. "You're gonna have to climb a bit closer."

"Can't… can't do it…" Neville cried, a new gash in the side of his face bleeding profusely.

"I got you."

Draco looked over his shoulder to see Harry had wrapped his arm around Draco's legs, and was looking rather wide-eyed. Adrenaline, Draco assumed, was what made him suddenly strong and aware enough to even consider trying to hold Draco up.

Draco let out a shaky breath, sliding forward a little bit more and noting that Harry was holding on strongly. He reached down again, and this time, managed to snag Neville's hand. "Now let go with your other hand, I'll pull you up!"

Neville hesitated for a moment, then let go. The instant he let go, his legs swung free of the foothold, and he was dangling from Draco's grasp, wildly trying to get hold of Draco's other hand. Draco grunted from the weight, and Harry slid slightly, but kept firm hold of Draco's legs. There was a wild and desperate scramble, where Draco slid another half inch and Neville nearly slipped from his grasp, but eventually the two locked both hands, and Nevile managed to climb up over Draco, plopping down on top of him in exhaustion.

"Longbottom… off… please…" Draco panted, trying not to stare at the rocky ground below. He was still hanging dangerously over the edge, and Harry had let go of his legs. Draco whimpered when Neville scrambled off him, kicking the back of his head in the process and stepping on his back. "Blimey," he groaned, sitting up and feeling his chest ache.

"Where are we?" Neville asked, a hand pressed firmly against the new wound on his head.

Draco sighed, clapping his hands together to get some of the dusty earth from them. "We were either not at ground level to begin with, and this whole time we've been walking on a mountain top, or this is a massive crater that was never here before. I have no idea where we are."

"Did Hermione and Ron leave us?" Harry panted, still laying at Draco's feet.

Draco bent down and took Harry around the middle, dragging him back several feet from the edge. "I don't know, but they're not down here. I don't think they fell when the ground started breaking. I don't know if they even noticed it."

"Hopefully they're okay…" Neville was staring up at where they wanted to go. It was far too high to manage. "We'll have to travel on this lower path until we find a place we can climb up."

"Which way do you suggest? It would be easier to catch up with them going in the same direction as they are, but… it looks like the path gets narrower that way." Draco squinted, staring down the path as far as his eyes could see, then turned and looked at the safer looking route in the opposite direction.

Neville was silent for a moment, looking back and forth. "I-I don't know… we should probably take the safer path…"

"There could be zombies back that way, though." Draco replied.

Neville looked indecisive, back and forth, back and forth. "I don't know!" He cried, his voice echoing a bit.

"Neville?"

Neville, Harry and Draco froze, hearing a distant cry from over top them.

"Hermione!" Neville called, and Draco joined him. They called for her until her head appeared over them, showering them with gravel.

"Oh thank Merlin you're okay! How did you get down there?!" Hermione cried.

"The ground broke underneath us."

"Oh… I thought that hole was always there, I skirted all the way around it. How are you going to get back up?" Hermione called.

Neville and Draco looked at each other for a moment before looking back up, squinting so the falling soot didn't get in their eyes. "We're gonna have to walk along this path until we find a safer place to climb back up, you can walk with us from up there."

Hermione agreed with a nod, standing back up and causing more gravel to shower down on them. "Watch it, Granger!" Draco cried, quickly looking down to avoid getting it in his eyes.

"What'd I do?" She crouched back down again, and Harry, Neville and Draco all cried out when she sent even more gravel down on them.

"Just get moving!" Draco spat, coughing. He rolled up his sleeves, noting that his arms underneath were just as filthy as his hands from his wrists down which had been exposed the whole time. The thin, expensive material of his clothing wasn't enough to keep the dirt off him. With a grumble, he moved over to Harry, pulling the tired boy to his feet and helping him along. It was going to be a long trip.

**AN: So, do you think they'll catch up with Ron? Who do you think is in most danger of dying? Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

Four hours, or thereabouts, was how long they had been walking. Hermione kept finding places where they might be able to climb up, and they would stare at the slightly less precarious slope for a few minutes before deciding that it was not worth the risk of sliding back down and tumbling down to the jagged rocks below.

By now, Harry had been transferred back and forth between Draco and Neville at least fifteen times, and he was stumbling along, dangerously close to tripping them on several occasions. "You know what, this isn't safe," Draco growled the third time Harry tripped and they both almost lost their balance and tumbled over the edge. Draco made Neville hold Harry steady while he crouched in front of him, and hoisted the exhausted teen up onto his back. "Bloody boy-who-lived, more like the boy-who-was-a-burden," he muttered.

They all stopped, looking to the sky when a flash of lightning illuminated it. Dark clouds could be seen rolling in over the hills. "That's not good," Draco heard Hermione cry from somewhere over their heads.

"Granger, normally I wouldn't suggest this, but you should come down here. You could get struck by lightning from all the way up there!" Draco called.

There was silence for a moment, thunder rumbling in the distance, then a few feet away, some rocks were sliding down and a moment later, Hermione landed unsteadily on the ledge, backpedaling furiously to keep from losing her balance over the edge.

"There was a bit of an over-hang back that way, if we go now we can get back to it, or we can chance it and keep moving forward." Draco adjusted his hold on Harry, who was starting to slide off his back.

"We should go back to where we know there's shelter," Hermione suggested. "From what I understand, zombies don't like the rain, they should go back to sleep early tonight." She started ushering them back, and ten minutes later, it had begun raining before they reached the overhang, which gave them more than enough shelter from it.

"This is more like a cave than an overhang," Neville commented, his voice echoing through the wide, room-like den. He took off his jacket, which was irritating his skin. The boys went back out into the rain, scrubbing their hands through their hair and tipping back their heads to enjoy the feeling of the water against their parched skin. Hermione took out a bottle from her bag and let the rain fill it.

Neville and Draco stripped down to their trousers and let the rain clean their skin and their filthy shirts, helping Harry do the same.

"How does it look?" Harry asked, not wanting to look at his wound.

Draco squinted in the rain, running a hand along the outer edge of his arm socket. "Much better than it did last time I saw it," he told him, already going back to scrubbing his hands through his hair.

"Boys, be careful not to slip, the rain's coming down pretty hard," Hermione's voice echoed a bit into the cave, and they all turned and began blushing, noting that she stood with her back to them, doing the same, also stripped down to her trousers.

The boys gave each other matching looks, then slowly went back to cleaning themselves.

"Ugh, can someone get the sticks out of my hair?" Hermione cried.

The boys looked at each other again, and, Neville, the closest, moved towards Hermione slowly and began running his hands through her hair. Draco and Harry shared a look, going back to their own hair, casting Neville jealous glances.

"We should go back in before the lightning gets here," Hermione eventually stated, her back still to them as she ducked back under the cover of the overhang.

The boys followed her in, shivering after stepping into the cold cave. Hermione had put her bra back on, but they had all left their shirts where the water could still hit them. It would be a while before all the filth came out of the stiff garments.

Snuggling together that night for warmth was awkward for Draco, who was stuck between Harry and Neville. He would have much rather felt Hermione's bare skin against his, not the other two. They all slept surprisingly well, though, the rain and gentle claps of thunder lulling them. The next morning, it was still raining.

"We can't go out in that, one because of the lightning and two because the rocks will be too slippery, it'd be too dangerous," Hermione sighed, rubbing her hands together into the fire she'd started using some helpful items from her bag. "As long as it's raining though, the zombies won't be a problem, and today's their sleeping day anyway."

"So what, do we just hang out here until the rain goes away?" Draco muttered, hugging his arms and shivering.

"Have any other suggestions?" Hermione replied cheerfully, through her teeth.

Draco glanced at her, then rolled his eyes. He said nothing.

There was a long silence, where everyone was warming their hands by the fire, having already dried up from their shower the night before, but still cold. The entire day was spent in that little cave, and by now some rain was splashing in and running to the back of the cave. It had put Hermione's fire out three times already.

"Guys, this cave slopes backwards, if it keeps raining like this, the whole cave is going to fill up like a tub." Hermione told them worriedly that night, glancing at the water already pooling at the far end of the cave and steadily rising each hour.

"This is insane, why is it raining like this?" Draco muttered unhappily.

"It's just getting into the rainy season, it could rain like this all week, just be glad it isn't snow." Hermione shuddered, hugging her arms when the fire went out again.

Neville had grabbed their shirts from the edge and rung them out, moving back over to them. "Anyone have enough magic to dry them?" He asked.

"Not a good idea, we're most likely going to get wet again in the next couple hours, and we all need to be ready to get out of here. We need our strength." Hermione took her top and pulled it back on, shivering and pulling on her jacket.

The others were more reluctant, but eventually did get back into their wet clothes. Neville and Draco had to help Harry, who was still unaccustomed to the whole "one arm" thing.

"The only question is should we wait and see if the rain stops, or leave now before the cave gets too full?" Hermione glanced nervously at the steadily rising level of water, and then out at the unrelenting downpour that showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

"If we wait too long, it's going to start pouring out of here like a waterfall, but if we go now, we're in danger of slipping on the ledge, which is too narrow to begin with." Draco stood and moved over to the front of the cave, squinting and looking out as best he could.

Hermione cursed uncharacteristically, standing and pacing. She slipped on the wet surface, scraping her elbow. "Ow…"

Neville hurried to make sure she was okay.

"There's a prime example of what'll happen if we go out there, where the rain's been pounding against those rocks all night, the water's only just started leaking in here since this morning." Draco moved back over to them, looking nervous.

"We can't stay in here, the water's already risen several feet in the last half hour. The question is, would you rather drown or fall to your death?"

"What if we crawl?" Harry suggested suddenly.

"Crawl?" The other three chorused.

"Yeah… like… like walking on a tightrope. If I ever had to, I'd go across on all fours, erm… threes." He glanced at where his left arm should have been, looking glum for a moment. "Same principal, narrow space, slippery… it would be less dangerous if we crawled until we came to another shelter that perhaps isn't filling up with water as we speak."

The others were silent for a moment, glancing at each other as if sharing opinions mentally. Eventually, Hermione spoke for the group. "Better than sitting around here trying to decide which is a less painful death," She sighed, walking to the edge of the shelter, hooking on her bag, and began crawling out into the rain, Neville close behind.

Draco looked at Harry. "Are you going to be able to do this with just one arm?" He asked carefully, and couldn't miss the doubt in Harry's eyes.

"I'll be fine," Harry insisted quietly, nodding for Draco to go on ahead. Draco sighed, then ducked out into the rain. A few inches out, and he leaned that army-crawling was the best way to go, glancing over his shoulder to note that Harry had already figure that out himself, and was having a harder time of it with just one arm. Neville and Hermione were only a few feet ahead.

It was like crawling across the edge of a waterfall. Draco thought that if the water were any deeper, he'd start floating. "At least the lightning stopped!" He said a moment before realizing there was no possible way any of them could hear him. A couple times along the way, he felt Harry grab his ankle, and he would stop for a moment to let Harry rest. Whenever Harry let go, he would start going again.

Hermione, at the front, was already regretting deciding to do this. She couldn't see, and the rain was already getting into her eyes and mouth. She was having trouble seeing, and starting to have trouble breathing as well.

Neville kept his head down, focused on grabbing and pulling, grabbing and pulling, his legs he only used to add a little push, but he was careful to not go too fast, he didn't want the current to pick him up and throw him over the edge. The edge. He glanced to his right and saw nothing but a drop off, water pouring down it at a rapid pace. He shut his eyes for a second, gasping in and telling himself it was going to be okay. Shaking his water-logged fringe out of his eyes, he continued on determinedly, only a few paces behind Hermione.

They crawled like that for longer than they could keep track of, they just knew that it was the longest trek of their lives. Finally, Hermione dragged herself under the protection of another overhang. It wasn't a cave, like the other shelter had been, it was just deep enough for them all to squeeze in behind her, but it kept them dry, and more importantly, it wasn't filling up with water.

The four of them sat there, shivering and shoved up against each other to keep from tipping back out into the rain. There was enough space for them to either sit with their legs drawn to their chest, or hanging over the edge. Hermione and Neville elected to hug their knees, while Draco and Harry were too tired to bother.

"You know… if I survive this…" Draco began, his voice bouncing off the waterfall and back in their faces, giving it an odd, echoing, watery resonance. "I think I'm going to actually start liking you people."

Hermione and Neville smiled at him from over their knees, and Harry let out a little chuckle. Draco's eyes moved from Hermione and Neville to Harry, who was staring at him with a tired smile. "You know Draco, I think you already do. You just won't admit it yet."

**AN: Sorry about the wait. Been sick for months. I'm going to try and get back into updating regularly. Let me know what you think of this chapter, and the story as a whole! PLEASE REVIEW! **


	7. Chapter 7

The rain had stopped sometime early that morning. They had woken with a start at the sound of Neville's terrified shrieks. Draco and Hermione had to desperately haul Neville back up, as he had slid off the narrow ledge in his sleep, and only just barely avoided a terrible death.

Now, they had been walking for about two and a half hours, and the hot sun had completely dried up the wetness that had previously blanketed the earth. It had gone from one extreme to the other in a matter of hours, and now the teens would do just about anything for a glimpse of a raincloud. It was such peculiar weather for Ireland, but then everything happening lately was just so out of sorts that other than the discomfort the stifling heat brought about, no one questioned it.

Harry was staring over Draco's shoulder at the daunting drop, his arm draped over his other shoulder and his chin digging into Draco's wound, adding to Draco's overall discomfort."One misstep," the groggy bespectacled teen began, "and we're done for," he needlessly reminded, his voice echoing against the canyon walls and the insides of Draco's ears.

The exhausted blonde rolled his eyes and tightened his hold on Harry's legs, clenching his jaw at first to keep from snapping back, and then did so anyway, unable to hold back a retort. "If you remind me one more time-" he growled in irritation, leaving his unfinished threat hanging for Harry to scowl over.

"Shut up, the both of you," Hermione muttered ungraciously, in no mood for their childish rivalry. She couldn't even understand why they were still fighting. Draco had been carrying Harry around for the better half of a week, which, had it been her, she would have already forgiven him. Harry on the other hand seemed more than willing to continue arguing over pointless things and Draco had no problem rising to the bait. It was giving her a headache.

Neville for the most part was trying to stay out of it, wanting to stay on Draco's good side, and not wanting to lose Harry's friendship. The only time Hermione said anything was to intervene when it seemed like Draco might drop Harry off the edge of the cliff, or in this case, when their mindless bickering had become so bothersome she thought she might throw _herself_ from the edge just to get away from it.

"Hermione, how long have we been walking today?" Neville asked timidly from behind her, reaching forward to steady himself with her shoulder. Irritated at his touch, as every little thing was irritating her at the moment, she shrugged his hand off. He withdrew his hand and stumbled at the loss of her support, but continued on without another word.

"Two and a half hours? Maybe three. I don't even know anymore." Hermione replied heavily, her voice thick with impatience. She adjusted her stiff and uncomfortable jacket in irritation. She would have gotten rid of it ages ago, since it was so hot, but the nights proved to be bitter cold. She would regret tossing it later, and there was simply no room to stuff it into her bag. She had already tossed several of her things, since the spell was growing weaker, and the bag heavier.

Other than the fact that her once useful undetectable extension charm was wearing off, the past couple hours of listening to Neville gripe about his aching body, and the other two boys immaturely have a go at each other mixed with her sore feet, parched throat and aching stomach had made her quite the angry little witch. She was about two pointless questions and one immature insult away from hexing the lot of them.

"Hermione-" Neville began.

"I'm not in the mood, Neville," Hermione replied with forced patience.

"But Hermione-" he tried again, laying a hand on her shoulder once more.

"Granger-" Draco added his voice to the mix, and Harry opened his mouth to do the same, and Hermione snapped.

Spinning around precariously on the thin edge, sending pebbles and soot flying into the chasm below, Hermione cast her blazing eyes upon her three male companions, biting out her next words in such a way that left them all frozen in fright. "You are all being _incredibly _selfish and immature. I'm just as hungry, bored and frightened as you are, I don't always have all the answers. So just _shut up _and _walk _or I swear to Merlin I will body-bind the lot of you and go on alone!" with that, she turned on her heel and marched on, leaving the others speechless.

"Blimey, she's finally gone mad." Draco whispered, watching her go.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Harry called after her, using Draco's shoulder to push himself upward a little more, staring after his best friend in confusion. Draco cringed a bit at the extra pressure on his wound, but was distracted from the pain by Hermione, who was still fuming and completely missing what they all were trying to point out to her.

"Oi, look up you loony, it's your precious Weasel!" Draco called, moving forward again and forcing Neville to do the same, as there was no room to stand aside.

Hermione stopped, turning to stare at them in confusion, then turned back, allowing her gaze to roam upwards, where, about a mile ahead, Ron was standing, with Ginny laying at his feet, and he was waving at them like mad. Due to the flattened terrain, and his vantage point above them, it was easy to spot him, even with the distance.

Hermione's scowl melted into a relieved, excited grin, and she scrambled forward on the slippery, rocky path, finding that the ledge sloped upward until she was back where she'd been before the hole in the earth had opened up and swallowed them. "Ron!" she cried, and he caught her in his arms, holding her close and spinning them around, so relieved that she was alright.

"Why did you leave me?" he asked, wounded, and her smile faded just a little.

"I had to go back for them, Ron." She whispered, pulling free of him once she remembered that he had gone on without her, leaving Harry, Neville and Draco to die. Awkwardly, she turned away from him, towards Ginny while Neville, Draco and Harry caught up, all exhausted.

Draco dropped Harry with as much care as his aching arms allowed, proceeding to collapse to the ground just before him. He lay on his stomach, panting, his breath stirring the hard, crusty earth beneath him. Neville knelt down to place a hand on the Slytherin's back, worried that the boy had hurt himself. He had carried Harry a long way, and he was just as tired, hungry and weak as the rest of them. Draco was wheezing, and it was apparent he was having trouble breathing. It took Neville a moment, but he soon realized that the boy's necktie was still tightly wrapped about his throat, and would soon become a hazard. Had no one been paying any attention, Draco could have choked to death then and there.

Acting quickly, before Draco could pass out from lack of oxygen, Neville rolled the teen over and hastily yanked on his tie until it loosened. Draco gasped in desperately, and slowly began breathing more normally, weakly thanking Neville, who looked rather pleased with himself for saving him.

Harry remained where he'd been dropped, kneeling and watching Draco guiltily. The Slytherin and former Death Eater had exhausted himself to the point where he hadn't even the strength to undo his own tie, just so Harry could survive with them. He hadn't been forced at wandpoint to do so. There was a point in time that Harry had believed Draco wouldn't lift a finger to help him, even if he were at wandpoint. Now he was questioning that. There was no doubt that Hermione and Neville would have found a way to drag him along on their own - but without Draco, it would have been virtually impossible.

Ron stared at Harry, guilt flashing behind his eyes as he thought about refusing to turn back for his best friend. Harry would have turned back for him. Ron's eyes turned to Draco, and his expression turned decidedly upset. If even _Malfoy _was willing to go out of his way to help Harry, then what kind of best friend did that make Ron? Visibly upset by this thought, he dropped to his knees before Harry, who was staring at him blankly. "I-I had to protect Ginny," he whimpered, hoping Harry would understand. "She's the only family I've got left."

Harry looked away, not wanting to understand so well. He knew Ron was hurting, and that he was so very protective of Ginny, his precious little sister, his last remaining family. Had Harry been forced to choose between one of his parents, were they still living, and one of his friends… he wasn't sure what he'd do. Ron had been faced with a tough choice. But he was right. Family needed to come first.

"It's alright, Ron," Harry murmured, reaching forward with his arm, hoping to receive a hug from his best friend, to assure him that he wasn't mad. "You're lucky to still have some family left. You need to protect your family with everything you've got."

Ron, relieved, hugged his best mate close, so glad that Harry was still alive. "You're bloody immortal, you know that?" he joked softly, pulling back to look at him properly, giving the boy-who-lived a lopsided grin.

Harry returned the smile, glad that Ron was back to his old self, more or less, anyway, with an extra layer of dirt to boot.

Draco remained where he was, too exhausted to move, his head resting against Neville's knee, watching the two best friends. He looked away, thoughts swarming through his mind. Unbeknownst to him, he was still harvesting jealousy in the pit of his stomach. He still wanted to have a friendship like that. Someone who would forgive him for making a mistake, rather than push him away, mock him or beat him down.

Neville sighed, having decided that Draco was now alright. He carefully lifted the boy's head and lowered it to the ground to avoid hurting Draco's neck, then stood and moved around the others, tiredly plopping down next to Hermione, who was holding an unconscious Ginny in her lap. "Is she alright?" he murmured sadly, gently stroking the girl's dirty red hair from her dirty, pale face, cringing at the sight of her head wound.

Hermione nodded, smiling softly. "It's a miracle it's not infected, and it looks like it's healed up some. At this rate, she ought to be back on her feet in the next couple weeks," she whispered, daring to be hopeful.

Neville seemed endlessly pleased by this news, yawning and lying down with his head next to Ginny's, awkwardly embracing her.

Hermione smiled and petted his head softly, stroking his dark hair from his ashen face. He was being so brave again. Part of her could still see the sniveling, frightened little boy he'd once been. That little boy still sometimes popped back out, but he was fighting it. He deserved a medal for how well he was handling this whole situation.

Hermione looked up when, with the help of Ron, Harry weakly struggled to pull a moaning Draco over to lie beside her, then collapsed with his head thumping weakly onto her shoulder. "We're going to be alright, right Hermione?" he needed her reassurance, as if her word was law, as if he thought that if she said that they would be fine, they really would.

Hermione bit her lip, noting that all eyes were now raised to her. Hopeful eyes, still bright upon the filthy, ashen faces. Smiling, she wrapped an arm around Harry, who pulled Draco and Ron closer, and the six of them huddled together tightly amongst the sooty desert plain.

"Yes, Harry. We've got each other. And that's all we need to survive."

**AN: Sorry for the long wait! Please review, please, it motivates me like you wouldn't even believe. This chapter is dedicated to GunsFallSilent for reviewing my most recent chapter.** **You just ignited my interest in this story once again. Thank you so much for that! :)**

**TO READ MORE ABOUT THE CHARACTERS, VISIT THE MIGHTY SLYTHERINS WIKIA. (Link is on my page)**


	8. Chapter 8

The six of them remained like that until dark, curled closely together, protecting one another, keeping each other warm as the sudden bitter cold of night set in. Normally, by now Hermione would have suggested they try and find shelter. But after seeing that Draco had literally collapsed in exhaustion, and Neville had been physically shaking, and seeing as her own feet were blistered and bloody from all the walking without the support of magic, she decided that they would be fine in the open like this so long as they remained cautious and tightly packed together.

Ron and Neville had started a small fire to keep them warm, and they all huddled about it, quietly telling each other stories to pass the time. No one was able to sleep, other than Ginny. Even Draco, who had his head tiredly against Harry's leg, and looked as though he might fall asleep any second, found it impossible to keep his eyes closed for more than five seconds at a time before snapping them open again. There was too much adrenaline flooding through their veins. They were all far too exhausted for sleep.

Draco laughed along with the others as Harry recounted the times he'd frightened the Dursley's into believing he'd turn them into fruit flies, or all the times he'd threatened to give Dudley a pair of pig ears to go with the tail Hagrid had given him the day he'd learned he was a wizard.

Curious, but not wanting to sound like he didn't know anything at all, Draco asked Harry and Hermione a few baffled questions about the muggle world, including questions like 'so they really do things without magic?' and 'how does this/that/and the other work?'

"But…" he hesitated, not wanting them to become irritated at his confusion.

Harry laughed, staring down at the teen who was half awake with his head against Harry's knee. He had to squint through his broken glasses to see Draco's face, but he managed to find Draco's uninjured shoulder and give it an encouraging pat. "Go on, we know you don't know anything about the muggle world, we're happy to answer questions. Right Hermione?"

Hermione was munching on a bit of stale bread. Everyone else was already done with their pieces, but she was making hers last, still munching on it slowly and making everyone else's mouths water. "Oh, sure," she mumbled around her mouthful, then swallowed with a blush.

Draco, convinced, thought long and hard about what he most wanted to know about. "I heard that muggles can fly," he finally stated, slowly. "But every time I imagine it, it makes less and less sense. Do they have wings?"

Hermione and Harry shared an amused glance, and Neville tried to hide a giggle.

Draco looked back and forth between them, absently playing with the rims of Harry's glasses, which he had become irritated looking at and had plucked them off of Harry's face. The fire reflected in his pale eyes and cast intermittent shadows over his white face, making him appear ghost-like. "What? What's so bloody funny?" he grumbled, feeling stupid. He curiously slid Harry's glasses onto his face and his eyes widened at how blurry the world was from behind them. "Blimey Potter, how can you see through these things?" he plucked them back off, glaring at them.

Harry grinned, taking them back from the Slytherin and pushing them back onto his face. "You don't need them, so naturally they make the world seem blurry to you." he teased. "Though they do work better when the lenses aren't cracked.

Draco huffed, obviously not believing him. His expression softened as his curiosity once again overtook him. "Really though, how can they fly if they don't have wings? They do have them, don't they? Or are you taking the piss?" He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"They don't have wings… on their backs, anyway," Harry began, grinning. "They have airplanes. They're big metal bird-like machines that are powered by engines and can fly. The muggles get inside them and ride for hours. Usually they're only used for oversees exploration or somewhere really far away."

"Now you really are taking the piss." Draco grumbled, shaking his head in disbelief.

"No, really." Hermione stated, adding her own colorful description of the winged machines.

The more Hermione and Harry tried to explain it, the more confused Draco became, and the conversation ended in a fit of giggles as Ron and Neville mimed an airplane based on Hermione and Harry's poor descriptions.

Everyone got along. No one had anything to bicker over. No one spoke of the dead, for fear of lowering morale. Sensitive topics were avoided, and everyone guarded their tongues. It was a good time, and Hermione felt them all growing closer.

Eventually everyone drifted off, huddled together, Harry, Draco and Ginny on the inside, since they were currently the most vulnerable.

Hermione woke at dawn the next morning, her internal clock preventing her from sleeping in despite her exhaustion.

She smiled at her friends who were cuddling up to her on all sides. Neville was on her right, his head on her shoulder and his broken arm draped lightly over Draco's side. Draco, Harry and Ginny were practically in her lap, all three very closely huddled together. Ron was on her left, his head on her other shoulder and his arms wrapped around Ginny. All of them were facing towards Hermione, with Harry the most fully upon her, his head resting softly on her chest and his face turned towards Draco who held the boy protectively close as he had been doing for the past week.

It was like they were all five drawn to each other, to Hermione, more specifically, for strength and comfort. Hermione smiled softly, feeling the weight of their survival more heavily than ever upon her shoulders. Did this mean she was their leader? Normally she'd say Harry was more cut out for it, but he wasn't at his best at the moment, or even close to it. So she'd bear the responsibility. No matter what, she had to keep them all alive. She couldn't let anything happen to them. They were her family now. Even Draco. After all that he'd done, especially Draco. She couldn't have managed without him. Neville's arm was still broken, and she could hardly make her own two feet move. Without Draco, Harry would never have made it. She was forever grateful to him, and she knew Harry was as well.

Hermione sighed softly, watching them sleep. She didn't want to wake them. They looked so peaceful for once. She didn't want to harshly bring them back to reality, but today was the day the Zombies would be hunting again. They were far too exposed and out in the open. They needed to get moving again, no matter how exhausted they were. Their survival depended on it.

And so, with great reluctance, she began softly waking first Ron, who she knew would take the longest to wake, then Neville and Draco, once again leaving Harry and Ginny to their slumber, as they were unable to walk on their own. They might as well rest up as much as humanly possible while they could.

Once again, Draco was the first to wake for her, and he sat up groggily, looking at first like he hadn't the slightest clue where he was.

Hermione smiled, rubbing his uninjured shoulder. "You alright?"

He nodded tiredly, looking around as everything came back to him, at first slowly, and then in horrifying clumps. "We've got no more time to rest? None at all?" he murmured mournfully, still completely exhausted.

"I'm afraid not," she replied sadly, reaching forward to pull his loosened necktie over his head, remembering that he'd choked on it the night before. "Why are you even still wearing this?" she murmured, unbuttoning the top two buttons on his now faded black dress shirt and brushing her fingers softly over his bruised neck. "Can't possibly be comfortable."

He shrugged helplessly, squinting off into the distance and absently rubbing at his neck. "It's familiar," he mumbled, taking the tie back from her and rubbing his thumbs over the expensive, tattered material for a moment, his eyes sad. The life he'd once had was gone now. Completely gone. Everything he'd ever thought had mattered – money, popularity, blood purity – it meant nothing now. Scoffing a little as he thought of how much of a fool he'd truly been to think that any of it had ever meant anything to begin with, he ripped the already torn material into shreds, then tossed it away from him.

Hermione watched his agitated movements, a thoughtful expression on her lovely, sunburned face. "It's… quite humbling, isn't it?" she murmured, indicating the waste and ruin about them.

"In the worst possible way," he agreed softly, massaging tiredly at his face. He then drew one knee to his chest and rested his chin upon it, staring sulkily at the dry, cracked earth.

Smiling, she rubbed his shoulder again comfortingly. "Well the past is the past. If we're ever to create a better future we've got to look beyond who we used to be. We're all changed because of this. We might as well make that change be for the better."

He nodded in agreement, smiling at her gratefully. It was beyond words for him. That after all he'd done to them, to her specifically… she was able to forgive him. She had forgiven him far sooner than now, he figured. Or at least she'd had the easiest time of any of them putting their differences and quarrels aside so that they could survive together. He admired her for it. Putting everything aside like that was just so difficult.

"I meant to thank you yesterday, I never got the chance." She continued softly, settling down beside him and turning her eyes to the empty land before them.

"What for?" he replied absently, aware that her hand was still on his arm, having slid downward and now softly rested against the crook of his elbow. Her chin was almost leant against his shoulder, but not quite. He didn't dare move, unaccustomed to being this close to the witch. He was struggling to put out an air of normalcy, but it just didn't feel normal to have her be so comfortable and so close to him.

"For everything." She responded, right in his ear. "I could never have lugged Harry all this way, he's too heavy for me, and Neville's arm is still broken, so he couldn't have either. We might have managed him between the two of us, but it would have been next to impossible. So… thank you." She turned to look at him, her warm brown eyes soft and full of gratitude.

He had to lean his head back a little so he wouldn't go cross-eyed looking at her, she was so close to him. He nodded, smiling uncomfortably. "I mean… all these years I thought I hated him…" he glanced back at the sleeping boy. "The thought of losing him… erm… as a rival… wounds me," he mumbled.

Hermione let out a snorted laugh at how he was tripping over himself to make it sound like he cared less than he truly did. Without warning, and startling the blonde in the process, she leaned forward and pressed a firm kiss to his cheek. "Thanks all the same." She said in a teasing voice, then stood and moved over to wake the others.

Draco stared after her, his heart beating just a little bit faster than normal, and his hand absently raised to his cheek. "Bloody hell," he breathed, hardly able to believe it.

Was he… _falling_ for Granger?

Shaking his head and explaining away the butterflies in his stomach as hunger pains, Draco stood silently and brushed himself off, moving over to help a groggy Harry to his feet, slinging the boy's arm over his shoulders and wrapping his own arm around to steady him. "Sorry Potter, I can't keep carrying you. You're too bloody heavy."

Harry mumbled a tired response, his head lolling wearily onto Draco's shoulder and the Slytherin teen sighed softly, half-dragging Harry along as he walked. He didn't know why Harry was so out of it again, he'd been doing so well the night before. He hoped he was just groggy from sleep.

Neville got on Harry's other side and wrapped his good arm around the boy to help Draco as much as he could, and Harry all but gave up walking at all, allowing his stumbling legs to go limp and drag along as they struggled to carry him between them.

Ron was already on his feet, Ginny in arms, heading for the trees in the distance. Hermione was on his heels, groaning from the weight of her bag which was still losing magic at an alarming rate. "This bloody thing." She groaned, reaching inside to yank out and toss aside several of the items she could get her hands on, trying not to look at the books too closely. She hated discarding books, but the other supplies that she had packed were things she just couldn't part with. They might need them later.

For a short while, they walked in silence towards the trees which, to their delight, didn't seem quite as dead as everything else around them. As they grew nearer, Hermione became uneasy at the silence, her intelligent eyes darting to and fro, watching for danger. She slowed to a stop, and Draco did as well, panting and watching her.

"What is it, Granger?" he panted, and when Ron heard, he stopped and turned to face them, confused.

Hermione was chewing on her lip, her fingers rubbing nervously over the handle of her wand, even though she knew she couldn't use it. "Something doesn't feel right-"

The words were hardly from her lips before they were bombarded on all sides from an enemy that moved so fast, they hardly got a proper look at it before they were all in a screaming pile of arms and legs, elbowing each other in the faces and stomachs in their desperate scramble to get back to their feet so they could defend themselves.

Neville was the first to catch sight of their captor, who was crouching by him, their head tipped curiously to the side and their face covered by a mask. There were more than one of the masked people, at least six of them, all surrounding them and wearing tattered robe-like clothing.

The first thing that came to Hermione's horrified mind was 'Death Eaters!' but it quickly became apparent that-that assumption was incorrect. Those weren't Death Eater robes and masks. They looked more like hand-made masks and rough-and-ready clothing to protect the wearers from the harsh sun.

"They don't look like zombies, Crow." One of the masked figures stated, their voice muffled by their mask.

The one that was Crow, distinct from the others by the many crow feathers sewn to his clothing, stood and walked a circle around the defenseless wizards. "No, I reckon they aren't." he replied in a deep voice, stopping by Hermione and turning his gaze over them slowly. "Which one of you is the leader?"

Everyone was silent for a moment, but all eyes turned to Hermione, who was once again reminded that she was to assume leadership until Harry was well. "I am," she replied, grunting and pushing herself up onto her elbows, craning her neck to look up at Crow who towered over her, his dusty boots less than a foot away.

Crow remained silent and motionless for a moment before he pulled off his mask, showing them his face. He was a handsome man in his early twenties, and had a small burn on his forehead, which sort of resembled a resting crow. "I'm Crow," he reached down, offering his hand to Hermione to help her up.

She hesitated, then accepted his hand and shakily climbed to her feet. "Her-" she briefly paused to acknowledge that Crow was more than likely not his real name. She didn't feel inclined to offer her own real name, either. "-mes." She finished, giving him a weak smile. "I'm Hermes. Are you muggles?"

"Huh?" Crow tipped up an eyebrow at that, and Hermione just smiled, having gotten her answer. Crow gave her another odd look before turning his eyes to the rest of them. "Help them up," he commanded, and several of the masked figures sprang into action, obeying immediately.

Draco grunted and stood shakily, trying to pull free of the small muggle who was now holding him up, but without their help he would surely collapse. Harry and Ginny were unconscious still, and one of the muggles got to work inspecting their wounds.

"Survivors, then," Crow murmured. "Like us. We have camp just up in the trees. We spotted you coming and thought you were a hoard, so we came to intercept you before you got to close. We need to get your wounded back to camp before the zombies catch the scent of their blood."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Thank you." She watched the masked muggles carefully pick up Ginny and Harry, and the last one helped Draco stumble along.

Neville and Ron walked right on the heels of the four carrying Harry and Ginny, watching them like hawks. Ron looked like he was itching to snatch his sister back, despite his weariness. He hated seeing her under someone else's care like that. But he knew that she and the others now more than likely had a better chance of survival.

Crow walked alongside Hermione. Having pushed his mask back down over his face, Hermione had already forgotten what he looked like exactly. She remembered he had a burn mark on his face, and she thought he had light-ish eyes but the other details had become foggy to her exhausted brain.

"Is Crow your real name?" Hermione asked, curious as to why he would need a fake name when the enemy was a bunch of mindless monsters who didn't care what your name was.

"Is Hermes yours?" he countered, looking down at her in what Hermione could only assume was a condescending manner, though with the mask it was impossible to tell.

Pursing her lips, she folded her arms over her chest and continued on. "Perhaps. I just need to know why you wouldn't use your real name if the zombies don't care either way."

He shrugged. "It's the end of the world. I like the name Crow. If I'm gonna die soon, might as well die with a name I like. Besides, it sounds cool."

Hermione was skeptical of his words, but said nothing, and decided to stick with Hermes for the time being.

Draco finally broke free of the masked muggle, falling against Hermione wearily, using her shoulders for support and she instantly wrapped her arms around his middle to steady him, breaking away from Crow who didn't slow down for them.

"Can we trust them?" Draco panted into her ear, his eyes darting nervously around. Of the lot of them, he was perhaps the least trusting and the most cynical. Hermione was not surprised that he had come to her for reassurance, though she wasn't sure how much she could give him. She was skeptical too.

Hermione scanned their surroundings, feeling helpless. "I don't think we have a choice," she replied finally, tightening her hold on him. "We're too weak to go on much longer without help."

Draco swallowed hard, trying not to feel like they were all going to die soon, one way or another. "Are they muggles? How could muggles survive this? Father..." he choked a little on the word 'father', and paused for a moment to recover. "-always said... that they were such weak beings." he murmured, staring at the ground.

"They're not that weak. They're ingenious. And they already know how to get on without magic. I'm not surprised that they're muggles. I highly doubt very many of our kind survived, and if any did, they're floundering around helplessly without magic, like us." She kept her voce low, not wanting the muggles to overhear.

Draco was silent for a moment, then simply nodded, forced to agree with her. He was limping heavily, so Hermione looked downwards at his legs, spotting blood seeping through his pantleg. "Did you hurt your knee?" she murmured worriedly, instantly reaching for it and then stopping herself.

Draco nodded, limping heavily. "I hit it on something hard when they surprised us," he replied softly, cringing in pain. "Why did you tell them your name was Hermes?"

She bit her lip, her eyes darting around again. "Because they aren't using their real names. I suggest you do the same," she whispered.

Draco nodded, then gasped, stopping in his tracks.

"What? What's wrong?" Hermione's immediate thought was that he was in pain, and her eyes went down to his knee again in worry.

A moment later, though, he was shaking her desperately and pointing, his eyes wide. When she looked up, she too gasped.

**AN: Hehe. So what do you think they're gasping and pointing at? What do you think of Crow and his little band of survivors? Can they be trusted? What do you think will happen next? Who do you think is in the most danger of dying?**

**Special thanks to ThatOneGirlNoOneNotices for the awesome review on my last chapter, as well as to the rest of you for being freakishly amazing. I'll give you individual shoutouts next chapter if you leave me good reviews. *puppy dog eyes* *mind control* AHEM. Anywho. :p**

**AS ALWAYS, IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE ABOUT THE CHARACTERS VISIT THE MIGHTY SLYTHERIN WIKI! (Link is on my page)**


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione looked up at where he was pointing, and gasped. Shocked did not even begin to describe what they all felt when they looked up and saw, lying there, in the middle of the clearing among the other wounded…

Hermione smiled in confusion, then in disbelief, and then in denial, clinging to Draco who was reaching for his wand.

"Please… please tell me that isn't-" Hermione begged, shaking him desperately, also shakily reaching for her own wand.

"It is…" Draco breathed, his hand trembling like mad as he slowly approached the all-too-familiar figure that was sitting there, rubbing her head and looking around blearily.

Harry, noticing that he was about to be laid down beside her, began shrieking and fighting in protest, and the muggles dropped him, startled. Ron rushed forward and grabbed his sister off of the other two, while Neville grabbed Harry's arm and scuttled backwards, dragging the boy quickly away.

Terrified and still a little loopy, Harry moaned and scrambled to his feet, running to Draco for protection, his weary mind recalling how Draco had been his protector for the past week. Draco pulled the boy close, his wand still shakily pointed at the witch that they were all-too familiar with.

"Bellatrix," Hermione whispered, and Harry whimpered at the name, hiding his face against Draco's shoulder. "Is that really her?"

Ron and Neville had their wands drawn and stood on either side of Draco and Hermione.

By now, Crow had noticed that they were all bristling with terror and hatred at one of his wounded. He stepped forward, standing between the teens and the witch who didn't seem to have yet noticed them. "Is there a problem here?" he didn't seem to be bothered by their wands, in fact thought that they were all a little crazy for holding out the pointless little sticks like they could actually do anything with them.

"That woman is very dangerous." Draco nodded to her, a protective arm around Harry who was trembling where he stood, his arm wrapped around the Slytherin tightly.

Crow swiveled his hips, his feet still firmly planted where he stood. "What, her?" he sounded surprised, shaking his head and turning back to them. "I know she looks a little frightening with all that hair, but she's harmless. She wandered into our camp about a week ago with a bad head injury, but she's recovering well. Says her name is Bells or something like that, she's real childish, but sweetest person you ever want to meet."

Draco didn't know why he had the sudden, unbearable urge to laugh. He knew that Bells had been Bellatrix' pet name as a child. Shifting uncertainly, he looked to Hermione for guidance, not having the slightest idea what to do now.

"She must have amnesia, otherwise she'd of torn this camp apart by now," she murmured, and Neville and Draco nodded in agreement, their eyes on Hermione, but their wands still on Bellatrix.

"Amnesia or not, this is Bellatrix we're talking about." Ron was still very, very bitter over how the woman had tortured Hermione at Malfoy Manner and left a horrible scar on her arm. Hermione was still quite furious about it as well, and Draco found himself on fire with rage at the memory, clutching his wand more tightly and kicking himself now more than ever for having not had the guts to do anything about it at the time.

"Seriously guys, is there going to be a problem here?" Crow pushed his mask back on his head again, holding out his arms to them, trying to keep the peace.

"Yes," Draco, Hermione, Ron and Neville all replied in exact unison, their eyes blazing. Rampant glares were sent in Bellatrix' direction, and by now the woman had noticed.

She stood, and everyone tensed as she came over on wobbly feet, latching onto Crow's arm for support. "Crow, what's going on?" she whined, pouting and childishly resting her head on the man's arm. She was so short, and Crow was so tall, that her head didn't even reach his shoulder.

"It's alright Bells, I've got it sorted." Crow protectively pushed the small witch behind him, glaring at the teens. "Come on now kids, don't be like this. I don't want to have to kick you out of camp over this, but I won't let you hurt her."

"She's my aunt, I grew up around her, I know what I'm talking about when I tell you she's one of the most dangerous people you'll ever meet. You don't understand, she's not herself, she's got amnesia or something," Draco insisted, practically pleading with the man to see reason.

"I don't believe you." Crow stated plainly, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes.

Bellatrix looked beyond confused, still clinging to the man's arm, her dark eyes turning to the teens, and a bright smile covered her face when she saw Draco, recognizing him. "Dragon!" she purred, rushing forward with her arms open wide.

Harry yelped and scuttled sideways, causing Draco to stumble back, his eyes wide. Panicked, he nearly fired a curse at her, but his magical strength was so depleted that he couldn't even manage a simple stupefy before the witch had him in arms, laughing joyfully and squeezing him tightly.

Draco was frozen in the spot, leaning wholeheartedly away from her, his wand still aimed at where the witch had been a moment before. He and Harry both looked ready to have a panic attack, whilst Hermione, Ron and Neville simply stared in shock. Seeing Bellatrix like this was so… so… something. It was something, something none of them could find the words for. It was ineffable.

Worried Harry and/or Draco might have a panic attack of some kind, Hermione lurched forward and yanked Bellatrix away from them, tucking her wand up her sleeve, unwilling to put it far out of reach just yet. She was still suspicious that Bellatrix was completely gone, no longer at all herself.

The moment Bellatrix was no longer wrapped around them, the boys stumbled backwards several steps, eyeing her like she might strike at any moment.

Perturbed, Crow came forward and placed a soft hand on Bellatrix' shoulder, glaring from Hermione, to Draco and Harry, and back again. "If there's going to be a problem here, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." He stated coldly. "I'm willing to help you, but not at the cost of another."

"She's a lunatic, she's murdered thousands of people!" Ron exclaimed, pointing his wand at her accusingly, and her carefree smile vanished. She teared up like a child who had been scolded, and turned to hide behind Crow, whose eyes were on fire with rage at the accusation. It was clear he was infatuated with the beautiful woman.

Crow barked some orders in a different language – it sounded like Irish – and his friends instantly turned on them, jumping them and in an instant had them in another screaming pile of arms and legs, which were now tightly bound, their wands having been wrestled out of their holds and tossed into the pile of firewood.

Crow strode over to Hermione, wearing a mighty scowl as he crouched down, taking her chin between thumb and forefinger. "I was willing to help you, Hermes," he began in a disappointed, disgusted tone. "But your intolerance for someone who's been part of my force longer than you have can't be overlooked. Bells is my fiancée. She means more to me than you and your friends combined, got that?"

_"Fiancée?" _Draco cried, shocked. He struggled against the ropes that had him and Harry tightly bound, but he was too exhausted to break thread, let alone the thick, braided ropes.

Crow ignored him, roughly dragging his thumb over Hermione's bottom lip. A wicked smile seized his features. "You guys be of some use yet, though." He waved them away, telling his friends to 'An bhfuil, mar a thoil agat.' Which Hermione was able to mentally translate as 'do as you please' or something similar.

Instantly, she felt dread fill her stomach as she and the others were dragged away, deeper into the camp. They kicked and screamed, exhaustedly determining that trusting these people had been a poor choice.

One of the masked muggles raised a club, ready to begin mercilessly beating the lot of them, but Bellatrix let out a strangled yelp, and they paused, turning to her. "Wait!" she cried, pulling free of Crow and hurrying over to weakly tug at the ropes around her nephew, who was as wide-eyed in terror as the rest of them. "Don't hurt Dragon!" Bellatrix whined, laying atop her nephew and nuzzling her face into his silvery hair, using her own body to protect his.

Crow sighed heavily, pulling Bellatrix away and ordering one of his men to free Draco, who desperately pulled himself free from them as soon as he was rid of the ropes, rushing to his aunt's side. "Aunty Bella, please, don't let them hurt my friends!" he tripped over his words, so shaky with adrenaline that he thought he might burst, the word 'friends' escaping his lips without any thought. He paused, glancing at them as they watched him in fear, their lives in his hands. They were his friends. They truly were.

Bellatrix pouted at the desperation on her nephew's face, and turned to give Crow a pleading look, hugging the rigid boy.

Crow rolled his eyes. "Anything for you, my dear." He kissed her hand, and ordered his men to take Ginny and heal her. The others were to be kept in the huts where they could be closely observed, and he strictly forbade anyone from beating them to death.

Draco was forced to stay by his aunt's side, nervous and twitchy, like he was over-caffeinated. He sat nervously by the fire that night, shivering and all-too-aware of his aunt's hands wrapped around his arm while she happily chatted to her fiancé, who gave her his undivided attention.

Draco's silvery blue eyes were locked on all the huts, where his friends were. They'd all been separated and he didn't know who was in which hut. There were many of them, at least twenty-five. There were more than just the first five muggles that had attacked them under Crow's authority. There were at least forty muggles in the little camp, and five of them were on guard at all times. Which meant breaking the others free would be next to impossible. He was at a loss for what to do. He wasn't naïve enough to believe that Crow wouldn't let Bellatrix just forget about them and kill them while she was gleefully distracted elsewhere.

Draco's mind was snapped back to their conversation when something his aunt said caught his attention. "What?" he cried, startling her and the others sitting around the fire.

The woman placed a hand on her stomach, her eyes wide. "Crow and I are expecting our first child-"

"Oh- oh my god…" he felt like he was going to be sick, his head spinning.

Bellatrix whimpered at her nephew's lack of approval. "Why aren't you happy for me?" she whined.

"But… she's only been here a week?" Draco ignored her, massaging his temples and glaring daggers in Crow's direction.

"That's all it takes. 'course we'll have to wait a bit to know for sure, but she's pretty certain, and so am I." he smiled and gently stroked her flat stomach, and she looked at him fondly.

Draco felt again like he was going to be sick. Bellatrix truly did have amnesia. Otherwise the thought of bearing a muggle's child would cause her to turn a wand on herself. He shuddered and stood. "I want to speak with Hermes." He croaked, starting for the huts when a gruff muggle stood and glared at him until he sat back down, trembling in fear.

"Play nicely, Eddie." Crow drawled, looking obviously very pleased at how well-trained his little gaggle of muggles were. "Besides… Hermes is… occupied." He looked like he could hardly contain his dark laughter.

"What do you mean?" Draco furrowed his brow at the man.

Crow smirked at him, his eyes shining. "There are more men here than women. Some of my friends found Hermes... desirable." he explained nastily.

"What do you-" Draco's eyes widened and he choked on his words, his ears suddenly detecting and putting a name to the muffled sounds he'd been hearing for the past hour. "NO!" he cried, anger filling his body as he jumped to his feet and raced for the huts, desperately trying to detect which hut the sounds were coming from.

His heart pounding in his ears and his entire body quaking from head to toe, he dove into the first hut he could hear noises from, and to his absolute horror, he saw a large muggle atop a gagged and bound Hermione, who was screaming at the top of her lungs through the cloth stuffed in her mouth, and fighting with every ounce of her remaining strength against the man and the ropes.

Blinded by rage, Draco dove on the man and wrestled him away from her, pounding against any part of the man he could reach, ignoring the pain as the muggle viciously returned his blows. Draco had just finished strangling the life out of him when the hut filled with other muggles who dragged him out, viciously attacking him for having killed one of their own.

He didn't think any of them truly cared about their fellow clanmate. They were all evil, selfish bastards, who took joy in killing and torture. He supposed that was how they had survived for so long. They were ruthless. They were willing to do unspeakable things in order to survive. They were just like he had been.

"Don't hurt him!" Bellatrix screeched over all the racket, and Crow commanded them to stop. They all paused, and Draco's body was completely lifted from the ground, his limbs stretched apart and many weapons poised and ready to strike. He'd already received a nasty hit to the kneecap, which he was sure was shattered by now.

"My love, he's killed Henry!" Crow pleaded.

Bellatrix ignored him, hurrying over to try and defend her nephew. "Please, Crow. He's my sister's son." She whimpered. "You know how I miss my sister."

Crow felt guilt fill his every muscle. "Of course I remember your sister Narcissa, who died giving birth to Dragon." He murmured, and Draco furrowed his brow, confused despite the sticky situation he was in. All of his joints felt like they were ready to fall out of socket from the way he was being held. Bellatrix had lied? But she had amnesia? Perhaps she was just confused…?

Crow commanded his subordinates to throw Draco into the hut with Hermione and keep him there while he conferred with the other leaders.

Draco cried out in pain when he hit the ground inside the hut, his shoulder cracking and his knees smacking together. "Ow… ow…" he moaned, gingerly sitting up and determinedly crawling over to Hermione, who was still tied up. She was curled into a ball, tears pouring down her cheeks while she continued to twist her arms, trying to get the ropes to undo themselves but only succeeding in rubbing her wrists raw.

Draco's hands were shaking so terribly that he could hardly untie Hermione, who was sobbing and trembling just as much, traumatized. "Shh, shh, it's alright." He murmured hoarsely, pulling off his tattered blazer and wrapping it around her naked form after he freed the knots.

Strong as she was, she was exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally. She couldn't make the sobbing stop. So she simply let it all out, clinging to the front of Draco's shirt while he held her and tried to console her. Rage continued to boil inside of him for what they'd done to her, and briefly, his frazzled mind wondered what kind of horrors Harry and the others were experiencing.

"Harry-" he choked, feeling his body tense up further. "Neville..." he sat up, shivering. "H-Harry-." he closed his eyes, trying to force out the images now in his head, but they wouldn't go away. "Dammit, no!" he croaked, forcing himself to stand and dragging Hermione to her feet as well, he shoved his way out of the hut.

Instantly, several muggles surrounded them, ready to force them back into the hut, but he'd had enough. Clutching a trembling Hermione closely to him, he gave them all a look so full of burning hatred that they would have all withered away if looks could kill.

Switching Hermione over to his other arm, he threw out his right hand. "ACIO WAND!" he screamed, and his wand flew to his grasp with surprising forcefulness. He put the last bit of his strength and blew the muggles away, sending them flying in all directions. Filled with adrenaline, he didn't notice the mind-numbing pain shooting up his leg, nor the weakness that now filled his entire body as he dragged Hermione along to find Harry and the others.

The remaining muggles, now terrified of what Draco had done, were staying well-away as he, one by one, freed the others, who were all badly wounded from their rough captors, and the lot of them were half naked to boot.

Not a word was spoken as they all quickly left, the adrenaline flooding through their veins the only thing keeping any of them from collapsing, most of all Draco who had spent every drop of his strength on physical combat and his spells.

They made it about a mile from the campsite before Draco's body shut down, and he collapsed, his hypnagog an image of the shame in Hermione's eyes, the jadedness in Ron's, the terror in Neville's and the brokenness in Harry's…

**AN: So. What do you think of Bellatrix with amnesia? Do you think she really has amnesia, or do you think she's just playing the muggles to her advantage? Do you think she's really pregnant? **

**Also, do you think Draco has now put his life at risk for how much he's over-exhausted himself? Do you think Harry, Ron, Neville and Ginny suffered the same fate as Hermione? Do you think Hermione will be okay after this? Who do you think is in the most danger of dying? Do you think Crow will pursue them? Who do you think would make a good couple?**

**Super special thanks to the amazing ThatOneGirlNoOneNotices for her AMAZING review (thank you once again my dear, you're awesome) And shoutout to PurpleStar2424 and Shorty McGee who have been faithful reviewers of my stories for quite some time now. :) thanks guys.**

**AS ALWAYS IF YOU WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE CHARACTERS VISIT THE MIGHTY SLYTHERINS WIKI! (Link is on my page) THERE IS ALSO NOW A THEME SONG FOR THIS STORY, WHICH HAS BEEN POSTED ON MY YOUTUBE CHANNEL (Link on my page) AND ON THE APOCALYPSE'S PAGE ON THE MIGHTY SLYTHERINS WIKI.**


	10. Chapter 10

"Ron, we can't leave him!" Harry cried, desperately hauling on Draco's arm as the teen collapsed into a broken, exhausted heap.

Ron didn't stop, still driven by the pathological need to protect his little sister, ready to abandon anything or anyone who became a burden or a leech on her survival. "They're going to catch up with us!" he cried. "Just leave him!"

Hermione pulled free of Neville, shoving her arms up through the sleeves of Draco's jacket so she could grab the unconscious teen's other arm, attempting to help Harry drag the boy along.

Neville raced to their side, taking up the Slytherin by his waist, attempting to pick him up, telling them to hurry. They did, panting and racing on with all the speed they could muster, Hermione whimpering every step of the way. She was on fire with pain, and her bare feet continuously came in contact with broken glass, sharply edged rocks and other filthy things. The point was, though, they could hear Crow's dogs howling in the distance, and his men's heavy feet, and the fear kept them moving.

"Together," Harry panted, reminding them that they were in this together, and nothing was going to break one of them down if the others were strong enough to keep going.

"Together," Hermione and Neville repeated quickly, a certain shock behind their eyes despite their determination. It was the look that soldiers had when coming back from a long, gruesome war. The look when you realized you were slowly but surely losing yourself and your friends to the cruelness of the dying world.

It was finally becoming clear to them that even though there were other survivors… they could quite possibly be the only people left that were even worthy of living. The others were more than likely thieves, scoundrels, liars and murderers. All the good in people was dying out.

"It's the end of the world," Hermione whimpered that night, when they had set up camp in a small wooded area. Neville had given her his sweater vest, which she wore under Draco's blazer. Her feet were in Neville's lap, and he was very delicately, as delicately as he could, plucking the shards of glass from her bleeding, bruised heels. He cringed every time she did, and gently rubbed the healing potions into her feet, wrapping a bit of clean material around them to protect the healing wounds from infection.

"It's the end of the world," she repeated, and the others all flinched, silent.

Harry had Draco's head in his lap, and was tenderly stroking the filthy ashen locks from the boys' palled face. Draco had yet to awaken, and it had been five hours since they had escaped Crow's camp. He still had a pulse, albeit a weak one, and every few minutes, his chest would stop rising and falling for a moment, his body would twitch in discomfort and he'd begin breathing again. Harry's eyes never left the boy's chest. He was terrified of losing his protector.

"Everyone's a barbarian because they think that's how it's supposed to be," Hermione continued softly, her teary, honey-colored eyes trained on the fire, reflecting the flames, her thin body trembling as she drew her knees to her chest. "So many people believe that's the only way to survive, rather than coming together as one and helping one another to create a new, better world."

Neville scooted closer to her, wrapping an arm about her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her, but she drew away from him, flinching. She continued to tell herself that they didn't know what had happened to her. And she truly believed it, too. Logically… she knew that they must have an idea, considering her lack of clothing… but it was the only control she had left. Who knew, and who didn't. So she chose to believe that only she and Draco knew. And she was content to keep it that way.

Sniffling a little, she slid closer to Draco and Harry, curling into a ball with her head resting very softly next to Draco's and Harry stroked her hair back, pretending to not notice the tears collecting in the corners of her eyes.

Ron was silent, cradling Ginny, who had gotten significantly worse in the night. Her wound had reopened thanks to the rough handling she'd experienced at Crow's camp. Hermione had low hopes that the girl would survive the night. But Ron still refused to believe that he could lose his sister.

The night was long and cold. Ron was a bit of a cast-off at the moment, still the only one willing to sacrifice Draco's life in order to save his own. So he slept on one side of the camp fire, holding Ginny close.

Hermione and Draco were curled closely together on the other side, next to Harry, and Neville was near Harry's other side, shivering through most of the night because he felt unwelcomed to move closer.

Ron could feel them drifting apart. He didn't know what to do about it. He blamed Draco. Though he didn't still hate Draco… much… he just felt his jealously rising several notches every hour. His bravery and lack of selfishness recently had captured Hermione's attention, while Ron's selfishness and lack of bravery lately had been pushing her away.

Not realizing or caring that it wasn't Draco's fault, Ron held it against him that Hermione was still mad at Ron. And the part of him that was in love with Hermione hated Draco, and thought he was only risking his life like this because he wanted to end up with her. Or to just play with her feelings and in the end show his true colors. The longer Ron stewed over it, the more he became convinced that Draco hadn't changed at all.

They spent the night there, and the next day as well, seeing as Draco had yet to wake up and Hermione's feet were too damaged to walk on. Ginny weakly continued to hold on, but remained in her comatose, slowly healing. Four days and five nights of nothing but using up the last of their water and food, and Draco had still not woken. There was really nowhere for them to go, and their strength was doing nothing but depleting.

So on the fifth day, when they ran out of water, Hermione and Harry began working on a gurney using branches and a thick blanket that they could use to carry Draco more easily between the three of them. Hermione managed to find a pair of shoes in the bottom of her bag that she could wear to protect her feet, though she dreaded walking on them. They still ached terribly.

Hermione and Harry spent the day tending to Draco and Ginny and working on the gurney while Ron and Neville hunted for food and water. None of them had eaten or drank anything since having run out of food and water the day before, and they could all feel it catching up to them.

"Hermione?" Harry asked timidly as he cradled the still-unconscious Draco, watching her carefully weave torn cloth around the sides of the gurney. "Do you think he'll ever wake up? He used… _so much _of his magical and physical strength to save us…"

Hermione was silent for a while, ignoring him as she worked, and eventually gave up and hugged her knees, staring at the half-finished gurney. She shrugged, finally replying since there was nothing else for her to use to put off answering him. She shook her head helplessly, avoiding glancing at Draco's limp body at all costs. "All we can do is hope and pray…" she whispered.

"What point is there of it? Praying?" Harry asked bitterly, his trembling fingers brushing over Draco's pallid, ashen cheek. "I've been doing it for years and we lost the war, we lost everyone, we're losing each other…" his voice cracked and a single tear leaked from his green eyes and splashed onto Draco's ashen face.

"Which is why you shouldn't add yet one more thing to that list; don't lose anything else, least of all your faith, Harry," Hermione said hoarsely. "It's almost all we have left. You need it now more than ever." She traced circles into the ground with the toes of her high tops, and tears sprung to her eyes as she recalled the last time she had worn them. She'd been at home, with her parents. Oh how she missed them… so much…. Silently, she wondered if they had survived.

Sniffling and pressing her lips to her knees to keep them from trembling, she turned her teary eyes to the grey horizon opposite the deadened forest they were currently sheltered in. The smoke had yet to clear. It had been nearly two weeks, and the smoke was still covering every inch of the earth. The dust had yet to settle. They hadn't encountered any zombies since having left Hogwarts almost two weeks ago. But now she couldn't help but wonder if the zombies were the least of their worries.

Meanwhile, Ron and Neville were out searching for food and water, desperate to fill the pits in their stomachs and to sooth the aching, bitter dryness in the backs of their throats. If they didn't find nourishment soon… they knew that escaping Crow would have been in vain. Rather than dying at the hands of a madman they would die of thirst, or starve to death.

The average human could go weeks without food. But not without water. That was their main concern. But they hadn't seen water since it had rained about a week prior. And the water Hermione had collected from that was already gone, stretched between six people, it hadn't lasted very long.

"Where's the most likely place to find water?" Ron murmured to himself as they were walking.

"The great lake dried up," Neville whimpered. "So… how are we ever going to hope to find water anywhere else?"

Ron smacked him upside his head and Neville whimpered, cowering away from him. "Stop saying stupid things, stop being useless," he growled. "Help me think."

Neville cringed and nodded, still clutching his head. "U-um. What about the bottom of the canyon? A-after the big rain… there could still be some water pooled at the bottom." He whispered.

Ron's eyes lit up, and he immediately felt bad for having lashed out at him when his frustration had gotten the better of him. He raised his hand and patted Neville's shoulder appreciatively, making the boy flinch in fear of being struck again. "Brilliant. Let's go have a look." He altered his course, and began making his way towards the edge of the cliff, wondering how difficult it would be to make their way down, and then climb back up.

He also weighed the possibility of it being safer to just have everyone go down there and stay down there, travel down there or even live down there. Obviously Neville was right. After all that rain, there was bound to be some left. Staying down there to collect the water as it came seemed like a good, safe option.

Getting down on his stomach, Ron let his head hang over the edge so he could weigh the safest route down, and measure the distance. It was farther than he'd anticipated. A lot farther. There were many places that they could potentially use as footholds and handholds, but there was no way Harry would make it with just one arm, Ginny was still immobile, and while Draco was unconscious, they'd have better luck just tossing him down and jumping after him.

"Bloody hell, it's too far," he whispered, turning to note that Neville had crouched down beside him to also peer over the edge.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I can't even see the bottom. If we want to get down there, we need to find a safer path, and need to be willing to just stay down there, because getting back up is going to be impossible." Ron pushed himself back up onto his knees with a grunt, and just sat there, staring at the narrow gorge, his eyes roaming to the other side of it, which was a little less than a hundred feet away. The bottom of the canyon, which was dark and foreboding and impossible to see, was at least a good two hundred feet down. The rocks halfway down jutted out to where the absolute bottom was blocked from view. The overhangs looked as though they were still wet, and the sun only hit the one side of the rock face halfway down. The rest was bathed in relative darkness. There was no doubt in his mind that there was still water down there.

"Alright. If we're going to go down there, I think we need to all be agreed that it's the best option, because it will be nearly impossible to get down there. Coming back up is not going to be an option." Ron stood, brushing off his knees, his eyes still locked on the narrow, deep chasm. He looked to the left, and then to the right. Like a wide river, it stretched from one end of the horizon to the other, and for the life of him still, he couldn't recall if it had always been there, or if the world had split down the middle thanks to the apocalypse.

"Come on. Let's get back to the others." Ron turned and began heading back.

"But we haven't got any food to take back with us." Neville reminded Ron of their original mission as he picked his way after the redhead, his knees becoming weak. The adrenaline was very quickly wearing off, and they could feel their bodies becoming weaker and weaker as the adrenaline rushes had drained nearly every bit of their available energy. Now, they were burning into energy they couldn't really afford to lose. They needed to find nourishment, very soon.

"And we're not going to find any, not up here. We need to get down into that gorge," Ron called over his shoulder, continuing on at a determined pace that Neville couldn't seem to keep up with.

"How… are we going to get down there?" Neville panted, dragging his feet and just barely avoiding dropping dead from exhaustion.

"I don't know, jump? The water would catch us." Ron shrugged.

"But… we don't… know…" Neville groaned and dropped to his knees, needing a break. He sat there panting for a moment, and Ron had stopped a few feet away, looking impatient. Neville groaned again and forced his trembling legs to rise beneath him and Ron moved over to help his friend along.

"What don't we know?" Ron inquired after Neville had caught his breath.

"How deep it is," Neville responded wearily. "The water. We don't know if there is any at all. We could be jumping to our deaths."

"Yeah well…" Ron was silent for a moment, looking at the waste and ruin around them. "It's either that or waste some more time starving and roasting to death up here. I say it's worth the risk. And if it kills us, then so be it. We're eventually going to die up here, anyway."

Neville's spirits were considerably lessened by Ron's morbidity. "S-so you don't believe Hermione? She says we're all strong enough to get through this..."

Ron was silent for a moment, then sighed heavily. "Of course I believe Hermione," he murmured. "She's usually right. But right now she's being optimistic. And I've chosen to be realistic."

Neville flinched and nodded, keeping his lips sealed as they made their way back to camp, where they found the others sound asleep, surrounding a finished gurney for Draco.

Ron hated to wake them, as they needed rest, but they needed nourishment more at the moment. And they needed to make a decision. No more time could pass. None of them could last another whole day without water. So he gently woke those who could still open their eyes, and began telling them of his (and Neville's) idea to journey down into the gorge in search of water.

"Well… if you're right Neville… then that means other survivors, and not just people, probably had the same idea. The area probably has attracted quite a few beings we won't want to get involved with. We'll need to be careful," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"We have to go, though. None of us can go on much longer without water," Harry said hoarsely, his eyes and mouth dry, his skin cracked. He observed his companions and noted that they were just as dried out as he was.

"Well let's go now, then," Ron insisted, urging the others to get to their feet. He plucked up Ginny and stumbled, grunting in frustration at his own weakness.

"Can we make it?" Hermione whimpered, leaning against Neville heavily. Her feet were screaming at her the moment she put her full weight on them, but she ignored the pain, her legs trembling terribly.

"We have to," Ron whispered, with conviction. "If we don't… we die."

**AN: So, do you think there's water in the bottom of the gorge? Will they be able to make it down in time to save themselves? What kind of other beings do you think could be already lurking down there? Perhaps more human survivors? Or more deadly predators?**

**Shoutout to ThatOneGirlNoOneNotices for her amazing reviews. And thank you to Shorty McGee and PurpleStar2424 for being faithful reviewers. It's really you guys that I'm writing for. Thanks for keeping me motivated. :)**

_**The Apocalypse **_**has a theme song! And the characters have character pages! Check it all out on The Mighty Slytherins Wiki (Link on my profile) to learn more about the story. **


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Some of you are asking questions like which arm did Harry lose, and who else survived. Please visit the FAQ (Frequently Asked Questions) on The Mighty Slytherins Wiki. All he answers are posted there. Happy reading!)**

Their few possessions packed up and ready to go, with Draco laying limply in the gurney and Ginny draped over him, they headed for the gorge. Ron was carrying one end of it and Hermione and Neville carried the other. Between the three of them, it wasn't unbearably difficult, but the strain of carrying two people was still evident on their faces. All but Ron's. Ron was determined to not let anyone see his worry or weariness. He wanted to be the strong one. For Ginny. For Hermione.

Once they reached the edge of the gorge, they all stopped and took it all in. The mere distance. Neville felt as though either since having gotten back to the edge he had shrunk, or the world had gotten a lot bigger. He felt intimidated by the gorge now that he knew they intended to go down in it. It was dark, and made eerie echoing sounds. But the heat of day was upon them, and they were all exhausted and starving. They needed to get a move on.

"All right… let's do this," Ron whispered, taking out their ropes and getting to work fashioning the belts that they would strap to Ginny, Draco and Harry so that they wouldn't fall.

Since Harry wasn't going to be entirely limp like Ginny and Draco, Hermione was going to be on the other end of his rope, just to make sure if he slipped, she might be able to keep him from falling. Neville would be on the other end of Ginny's rope, and, much as he despised it, Ron would be on the other end of Draco's.

"We need to try to wake them," Hermione said softly. "This is a decent idea… but realistically it's impossible for you two to carry their full weight without losing your grip."

Ron nodded, and they all began desperately attempting to wake Ginny and Draco. Ginny stirred and blearily opened her eyes. She hadn't been awake since they'd last fed her, and it was clear that she would have loved to sleep a bit longer.

"Wha..?" She mumbled weakly.

"It's okay Gin. We're climbing down to someplace cool, with food and water, and we can sleep there, okay?" Ron soothed her, trying to keep her awake.

"Uh-huh." Ginny blinked tiredly, not really understanding a word he was saying.

"I need you to stay awake and help me, okay?" Ron pleaded.

"Uh-huh…" Ginny yawned, her eyelids heavy.

"No, you need to stay awake Gin." Ron shook her gently, wrapping the ropes around her hips, around her thighs and back up to fashion a sort of seat out of the ropes, also tying them up under her arms to keep her upright, since it was obvious she was going to just fall back to sleep halfway down.

"He won't wake up," Harry whimpered, shaking Draco roughly, and still the boy remained heavily unconscious.

Hermione chewed on her lip thoughtfully, staring at the blonde long and hard. "Okay. New plan. Let's tie all the ropes together, make it as long as we can, and lower him down first. We'll have Harry go down with him, so he can untie the ropes for us and we can lower Ginny after as well. It's going to be safer this way."

Ron was nodding as she spoke, delighted that Hermione had come up with a new, safer plan. "Let's do that," he agreed, already undoing all the ties he'd put in place, and putting the straps on Draco instead. He tried not to glare at the limp blonde, hating to even have to touch him, but he was the only one who could tie a decent knot. It made him sick how gently Harry touched the Slytherin. He couldn't understand how Harry had possibly grown so fond of him.

Sighing heavily, Ron tightened the knots at the front of Draco's chest, which he would use to connect him and Harry. He began tying the rest of the rope end-to-end until they had a nice, long coil of it. Draco was then tied firmly to Harry, chest-to-chest, and Harry was strapped into the rope system as well as they could get him. If Harry slipped, it would be up to them to make sure that they didn't plummet to their deaths.

"Ready, Harry?" Hermione asked, as she, Ron and Neville braced against the rope, to give Harry and Draco leverage.

Swallowing hard and clinging firmly to the rope with his sweaty right hand, Harry nodded, and they added tension to the rope. Nervously, Harry stepped backwards, shaking as the arches of his feet were now pressed against the edge of the cliff. He whimpered softly, now hanging backwards over the gap, and Harry began to feel his feet slipping.

"Lean back Harry, keep leaned back and just walk backwards, we'll make sure you don't fall," Hermione assured him, also leaning back heavily to keep the rope taught.

Harry obeyed, leaning back a bit more and slowly, carefully walking backwards down the cliff face, feeling Draco's limp weight against his chest. It added to his nervousness, and he wished he could wrap his arm around the boy and hold him close, but he couldn't let go of the rope.

"Alright Harry?" Hermione called.

Harry looked up, noting that he was already several feet down. Swallowing hard, he called out to let her know that he was fine, albeit his voice shaky. Slowly but surely, he walked backwards down the wall, and almost slipped three times, thanks to the unevenness of the rock face.

When he finally got around the biggest jut-out rocks, he turned his head backwards to look down at the bottom of the gorge. Delighted, he took in the river at the bottom, which flowed slowly but surely. The water looked clear and he could see the red earth in the riverbed. He could even spot fish swimming with the current. Filled with new hope, he began walking backwards again, and didn't stop until he was ankle deep in the beautiful, glorious little river.

Grinning ear-to-ear, he began desperately untying the ropes around him, hating how difficult it was for him to do with only one arm, but his eager desperation won over and he and Draco were soon free of the ropes, which immediately began to disappear back up the cliff as the others drew it back to them.

Excited, Harry turned back to Draco and began dragging him over to the bank of the river, laying him so that he was half in, half out. Harry smiled and dropped down beside him, pulling out the water flask that Hermione had given him, filled it, and drank some for himself before he attempted to wake Draco again.

To Harry's dismay, Draco still didn't wake. He didn't wake when Harry splashed his face with water, he didn't wake when Harry poured a little water in his mouth, nor did he swallow it. Harry was terrified of losing the boy. Absolutely terrified.

Hugging Draco tightly against his chest and cradling his head against the crook of his neck, Harry watched as Hermione and Ginny were lowered in the same way he and Draco had been. It was a good fifteen minutes before they safely made it down, and when they did, Hermione was grinning just as widely as Harry had been. She dragged Ginny over and set her down on the bank beside Harry and Draco after freeing herself and Ginny from the ropes.

"Isn't it lovely?" Harry asked softly, looking around in appreciation at the vegetation and water.

"Absolutely brilliant, beautiful," Hermione agreed, sitting down in the cool water, letting it sooth the ache that was between her legs, and trying not to notice the bit of blood that washed away with the current.

She drank her fill of the water as well, carefully washing off Ginny's face and helping the groggy girl drink some of the beautiful, clear water.

In silence, Hermione and Harry watched Neville carefully walk down the wall like they had, Ron holding him up. Briefly Hermione wondered how Ron was going to get down now, until she noticed that actually, both Neville _and _Ron were climbing down. Unsure what to make of this, she furrowed her brow and continued to watch in silence until they reached the bottom, looking relieved.

"How did you do that?" She called out to them, watching as the boys laughed and splashed in the water, plopping down in it and rinsing themselves off. They hadn't even bothered to undo the ropes yet.

"We drove a stake into the ground, prayed it would hold, and used each other for leverage," Ron replied, grinning at her as he filled up his water flask and drank eagerly.

"Where did you get the stake?" Hermione asked curiously, surprised by their ingenious idea.

"Your purse." Ron tossed it back to her and she caught it. "Presumably there in case you need to kill a vampire? I found like four of them."

Hermione nodded, smiling sheepishly. "I was prepared for anything and everything. I've been adding things to this bag for months. It feels odd now… taking so much of it out." She sighed and began rummaging through it, taking inventory of what they had left.

Everyone was silent, enjoying and taking in the fact that they had successfully made it to a safer environment where they could settle, thrive, and… hopefully… restart the world's population.

The serene was broken in an instant when Neville let out a small yelp, pointing desperately to a grassy bank on another end of the gorge where he had spotted something truly shocking, though not unexpected.

There was what appeared to be a large group of humans. At first, with the distance, they appeared to be zombies, though after staring long and hard, it became clear that they were not. They didn't display any zombie characteristics, such as swarming. They were just standing there, some crouching like more primitive humans, observing the newcomers.

"Do you think they're friendly?" Neville asked nervously.

"I don't think we can afford to find out," Hermione whispered, on the verge of panic. "Look at how they're dressed. They could be cannibals."

It was true. They displayed odd behaviors, and held about them an aura that overall was very off-putting. They appeared to be wearing a mix of African, Indian and Native American clothing, tribal tattoos, face paint and headdresses, though not one of them appeared to be of any of those races, save for two Africans amongst the handful of Caucasians. Rather than looking ancient or futuristic as they were probably going for, they looked rather like children playing dress up, and were rather comical to behold.

Their presence, however, didn't stir laughter in the hearts of the frightened teens, merely struck a nerve that instantly had them on their feet, wands in hand, ready to defend themselves.

"What do we do?" Harry asked nervously, clinging tightly to Draco. "We can't outrun them, we'd be going against the current."

"If they come near us, be ready to fight," Ron replied. It was their only option. The river grew wider and deeper the further upstream they went. They could head in that direction but eventually they would lose their footing and would end up swept right back in the direction of the strange-looking group of people.

Just as they feared, the tribal-like group began advancing on them, and they found themselves sick to their stomachs with fright. They tribe stopped about thirty feet away. Their features were made more distinct now, and that did nothing to calm the teen's nerves. One of them, one of the Africans, the male, had what appeared to be an old Chinese assault rifle. The others all had weapons as well; spears, rusty swords and small knives.

Though they all looked cautious, none were displaying openly aggressive behavior. After a minute of simply staring, two of them stepped forward and began cautiously making their way closer. One female, small and smiling, and one male, tall with an air of importance, began slowly moving nearer until they stood five feet away, and stopped.

"Hello," the girl greeted. She couldn't be much older than fifteen or much taller than five feet, but the way the taller, older male looked at her suggested that he held her in high respects. Her personality already was very clearly bubbly. Her clothing was a little different than the others. She wore flowers in her hair, feathers around her neck and wrists, a tattered floral dress and small black swirls were painted under each of her shining green eyes.

"Hello," Hermione greeted in return, softly. Subconsciously, she edged nearer to Draco. Though logically she knew Draco was unable at present to protect her, her mind forced her body to lessen the distance between herself and her protector.

"I am Nantan. I am the Ambassador of The New Black World Tribe. This is Degotoga, the second in command." The girl introduced herself, and then the taller man.

He wore bearskin, with a feathery headdress poking out from under the bear's lifeless fur. He had a star-shaped painting on his forehead and large streaks on either side of his face. His blue eyes were gentle and thoughtful as he looked Hermione in the eyes. "Hello," he greeted, bowing respectfully to them. "Who among you is your leader?"

Once again, they all turned their eyes to Hermione, who felt herself suddenly buckle under the weight of the responsibility she'd felt so ready to take on only hours ago. Her lips trembling slightly, and her mind questioning the logic behind what she did next, she pointed desperately to Draco, limp in Harry's arms. "He is. But he's been unconscious for days."

Ron instantly bristled, but he bit his tongue, not wanting to make a scene in front of these people.

Degotoga's eyes turned to Draco, and he looked thoughtful. "Would you allow our healer to inspect him?" he asked softly.

Ron instantly shook his head. "No, we're through trusting people. We just escaped another one of these silly little apocalyptic clans a week ago, barely with our lives."

"Ron, we can't survive on our own, we eventually need to explore the option of joining a group like this," Hermione said softly, hugging her arms.

Ron looked irritated at the second blow to his authority, but he stepped down, respecting Hermione's opinion. Still, he looked reluctant to trust yet another one of these silly little apocalyptic groups…

"We are not a Clan, we are a Tribe," Nantan corrected cheerfully.

"Same difference," Ron muttered.

"Ron! Please be respectful," Hermione snapped, not wanting to anger these people. She turned back to them, dipping her head a bit. "We would be grateful for the assistance." It took a lot out of her to trust them, after what she had been through. She reminded herself that Crow had been friendly and helpful until they had spotted Bellatrix...

Degotoga dipped his head in return, and turned to his group, calling out a strange word that they soon learned was the name of the tribe's healer.

Another woman broke away from the group, approaching them slowly. She was the other African, and she was absolutely, stunningly beautiful. Her lips were painted black, and matched her hair which was pulled back tightly from her face and braided over her shoulder. She wore a very small headdress made of large wooden beads, and she wore many necklaces made of the same materials. Her clothing was mostly fur and skins.

Stopping in front of them, she dipped her head low, first to Degotoga who seemed to hold deeper respect for her than she did for him, then to Hermione and the others. "I am Tooantuh, healer of The New Black World Tribe. May I inspect your wounded?"

"Please do," Hermione whispered, nodding to Ginny and Draco and stepping aside.

Tooantuh knelt by them, inspecting Ginny's head first, and then turning to Draco. "They are both dehydrated. We need to get some fluids into them."

"I can't get him to wake up enough to drink anything," Harry told her, softly stroking Draco's damp hair from his eyes.

Tooantuh nodded and straightened. "I can't care for them here. Will you return to camp with us so I can properly treat them?"

Hermione was silent for a moment, nervously fiddling with her sleeves. "Okay," she finally agreed, softly.

Degotoga called for the others to come over and help carry Ginny and Draco. Hermione noted that most of the tribe were female, and only approximately three of them were male.

One of the female faces, covered in red paint, was startlingly familiar. Hermione's jaw dropped as recognition dawned. "Luna!"

**AN: So, do you think Luna has amnesia too, or has she successfully become part of this group? Do you think Hermione and the others are safe to trust these people? Who do you think is currently in the most danger of dying?**

**Special thanks to ThatOneGirlNoOneNotices, LittleMissChatterbox2009 and Icemagic14445 for their amazing reviews! I write for you guys! :D**

**A always, if you want to know what the characters look like, or hear the theme song for the story, check out the Mighty Slytherins wiki! (Link on my profile)**


	12. Chapter 12

Between Degotoga and Ron, Draco was light as a feather, and one of the other males, a tall, intimidating one, carried Ginny on his own.

Nantan helped Harry to his feet and let him lean on her.

Hermione's eyes were locked on Luna, and Neville was right at her heels as she rushed forward to hug the girl. "Luna! You're alive! Oh thank God… when did you come here? How did you… what… how?" Hermione, for once, was lost for words.

Luna smiled at them, hugging Hermione back, then linking arms with her and following the group. "My name is Pamuya now," she told them airily, walking slowly. She had a lovely flower crown in her hair, crowned with Autumn colors, and half of her face, from the bridge of her nose down to her chin, was covered in red paint. She had black patterns on the right side of her face, and small black and red dots smattered across her forehead and browbones. She looked a bit silly… but then again, Luna had worn stranger things.

Neville walked closely on Luna's other side, still smitten with her. "How did you survive?" He asked softly, in reverence of her beauty and comical appearance. The way she was dressed added a certain charm to her overall loveliness.

"I was in the back of the castle, where very little debris had fallen. I saw you there. You, Ron and Draco, with Harry. But you didn't hear me calling out to you." She linked arms with Neville as well, the same serene on her face and in her voice.

Neville instantly felt overwhelmed with guilt, but Luna continued speaking, unmoved.

"Setimika and Vohkinne found me three days later when they were doing a sweep for survivors. I've been traveling with them ever since, picking up others on the way. I had a feeling I would run into you sometime along the way." She gave Neville a smile, remembering that he had admitted his love for her before the fighting had begun. "I'm glad I was right."

Neville still felt guilt, and he was silent as they traveled onward down the gorge.

"Luna, can we trust these people?" Hermione had to ask. She still felt unsafe.

Luna smiled warmly, her eyes sweeping over the small tribe she had grown to trust and love. "They are genuinely wonderful people. A bit odd, but then aren't we all?" She smiled, her eyes shining just a little at that.

Hermione grunted in response, still unconvinced. "Are they muggles, do you know?"

"I believe so. I haven't said anything about magic, and neither have they." She tipped her head to the side, watching them walk together and converse with one another easily. "I don't believe any of them knew each other before the war. It's funny how terrible things can bring people closer together."

Hermione was silent for a moment, taking in her surroundings with less optimism. "Hilarious," she deadpanned.

Luna glanced at her. "I didn't mean funny as in jovial, I meant funny as in-"

"I know what you meant." Her tone snappish, Hermione was in no mood for the girls' endless nonsensical chatter. She felt suddenly highly impatient, and broke away from them, hurrying off to catch up with Tooantuh, the healer. "Do you think you can help them?" She panted, limping.

Tooantuh glanced down at her. She was stick thin and tall, and Hermione felt like a toddler next to her. "I can heal external wounds," the beautiful woman murmured, glancing over at Ginny, and then her eyes traveled to Draco. "But I'm not skilled enough, nor do we have the right means to heal internal ones."

"Internal? He has internal injuries?" Hermione gasped, clutching at his jacket and drawing it more tightly about her shoulders.

Tooantuh nodded gravely. "I'm not entirely sure to what extent, I will need to inspect him more closely, but I believe that he has internal bleeding."

"But he's been injured like this for nearly a week! How has he survived that long?" Hermione kept her voice low, not wanting Harry to overhear. It would kill him if he found out.

"If it's not severe, then he could heal on his own and survive as if it never happened, but he needs rest and plenty of it. Moving him around so much is not helping." Tooantuh replied gently.

Hermione pressed her lips firmly together, silent. As her thoughts swarmed, she noticed that most of the tribe was barefoot. Furrowing her brow, she looked Tooantuh up and down and realized that her shoes, which were made of thick skins, rope and cloth, were tied together and hanging over her shoulders. A quick glance at some of the others confirmed that they had all done this. It was probably so their shoes didn't get ruined by constantly standing in ankle-deep water.

Sighing softly, Hermione stared down at her muggle converse shoes, the ones with the painful memories, and tears welled in her eyes again. Tooantuh misinterpreted Hermione's emotions, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "He means something to you. Strongly so. Is he your husband?"

Hermione smiled sadly, glancing at Draco again and shaking her head. "No," she replied hoarsely. "He saved me. I owe him a debt."

Tooantuh nodded understandingly. "All the same, I promise to do everything in my power to save him." She petted Hermione's shoulder once again before returning her focus to the group and following suit.

Neville, who was still linked with Luna's arm, was lost for words. He stared at the ground as they walked, his pace slow, and occasionally, he stumbled forward, as Luna's pace was quite a bit faster.

"Are you injured?" Luna asked softly. "You seem pained."

"No. No, I'm fine." Neville scratched behind his ear, wincing when his head throbbed in protest. "I hit my head, but I mean... I'm in no place to complain. I still have all my limbs..." He sucked in a sharp breath, feeling uncomfortable. "How about you?"

Luna smiled softly. "I had a sprained ankle when Degotoga and Setimika found me, but I'm doing quite well now, with Tooantuh's guidance."

"That's brilliant. I... can't even tell you hurt it." Neville smiled at her nervously.

Luna nodded with a smile. "I stopped limping early this week. Tooantuh is a wonderful healer."

Lost for words again, Neville merely smiled, and said nothing.

After walking for about three minutes, they came to a cave, a large, deep, narrow cave. It was just on the inside of a sandy shore, where everyone dried their feet on rags and put their handmade shoes back on before lighting a torch, and entering.

Hermione and the others hung back, but followed when they watched Luna enter without hesitation, dragging an uncomfortable Neville along behind her. Degotoga was in the lead, and the cave was narrow enough that they had to walk single-file. The man with the Chinese assault rifle was in the very back with another torch. Hermione was somewhere in the middle, and could see no more than shadows and silhouettes. She found the shoulders of the person in front of her, and kept firm hold of them, despite not knowing whose shoulders they were.

The person, another woman, tipped her head back to offer Hermione a gentle smile. "Hey kiddo. Relax. We'll be out of the dark soon." She petted Hermione's hand with her heavily gloved one, and turned her eyes back to the person ahead of her.

Touched, but unconvinced, Hermione remained silent and kept firm hold of the woman's shoulders. She couldn't bear to pry her hands free, like they'd been welded there. She was too frightened to let go. Another three minutes of twists and turns, and Hermione became convinced that the woman had been wrong, and that they were now terribly lost.

Until out of nowhere, light began to shine ahead of them, and one-by-one, they stepped out into the open. Surprised, Hermione squinted and waited for her eyes to adjust before she realized where they were. Looking up, she noted that they had traveled downward several hundred feet, and above them was the sky, shining down through a narrow opening that cast just enough light to show her how these people had made a home of this place.

It was so peaceful, and was decorated with salvaged items, most of which were muggle, some were not. There was an altar made entirely of wizards wands bound together to make something similar to the Star of David. There were beautiful weavings made of recycled materials. A young girl, no older than seven or eight, played with a damaged doll at the feet of an elderly woman who sat peacefully, mending some clothing with a second doll tucked delicately by her side, her face halfway sewn back on.

It was a home. These people were making a home for themselves, even in the darkest times, they were coming together… and building a new, better world. And it touched Hermione so deeply that she was once again reduced to tears.

Watching the care with which the healer, Tooantuh, treated Ginny's wound, Hermione covered her mouth and choked down a sob. These people legitimately wanted to help. She watched Tooantuh as she cleaned it and wrapped Ginny's head and then turned to Draco, having Luna help her remove his shirt. She carefully felt of his chest and his abdomen, his head and anywhere else that could possibly be hurt on the inside.

Curious as to how injured he was, Hermione collected her emotions and made her way over, standing out of the way, but near enough that she could hear. Her eyes turned briefly to a woman with red paint over her eyes, and a third eye drawn on her forehead, who prayed over Draco and Ginny while the healer worked.

"Just as I thought. He's got bleeding in his stomach cavity. Was he hit with a blunt object?" She asked.

The others were unsure, while Hermione bit her lip, turning her head back and forth for a moment before she weakly piped up that he had. When he'd been fighting that man off… the man who had hurt her… that vile man had hit him, hard, repeatedly, in the stomach area. "He… he was in a fight. He got hit pretty hard in the stomach," she whispered, chewing on her thumb.

Tooantuh nodded, turning to a medical bag that was covered with branches and leaves. Hermione realized that everything they had that was worth something had been disguised like that. Perhaps so if someone stumbled across their camp while they were not there, nothing of importance could be stolen. Impressed, Hermione slid down to sit on the cool stone, reaching forward timidly to grab Draco's limp, pale hand. It was cold. Feeling ill to her stomach, she noted that Harry was holding Draco's other hand, and he looked deathly pale.

Hermione didn't often pray, but at this moment, she had never prayed for anything more desperately. Harry had briefly lost his will to live. Draco had somehow changed that. If Harry lost that now…

"Hold his head up, and his mouth open," Tooantuh ordered.

Luna, holding Draco's head in her lap, obeyed, carefully lifting his head and prying his jaw open. Tooantuh mixed a bit of some sort of medicine into a bit of water and dumped it into Draco's mouth, telling Luna to hold his jaw shut while she massaged his throat. After several moments, Draco swallowed, and Tooantuh breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. I was hoping that hadn't been a waste," she whispered, putting the cap carefully back onto the medicine bottle and delicately placing her things away.

"Thank you," Harry breathed, holding Draco's limp hand tightly to his chest.

Tooantuh smiled and bent down to kiss Harry's forehead, surprising him with the motherly act. "You are welcome." She stood and made her way over to a woman who was conversing with Degotoga, over on the other side of the caves.

The woman with the third eye painted on her forehead continued to softly pray for Draco and Ginny, and when she was finished, Harry thanked her.

Smiling, the woman dipped her head. "I am Numees, Holy Woman," she pronounced each syllable of each word with deliberate exaggeration, and a thick Irish accent. It was obvious that she thought herself better than them, and that she was not at all humble in her faith. "I expect to see you on Sunday." She stood and marched away importantly.

Hermione sighed softly. "I don't even know what day it is," she murmured.

"It's Friday."

Surprised, Neville and Hermione turned sharply to look at Ron, who had been the one to speak up about the date. He was standing in the shadows, glowering, his arms crossed firmly over his chest. "It's been thirteen days. It's Friday the fifteenth. I've been keeping track."

The others were silent, watching him turn and slowly stalk away.

"Why is he upset?" Luna asked curiously, taking a bit of water and gently washing Draco's face with a clean bit of cloth. With all the dirt and blood coming off, Hermione realized just how pale he had become. The dirt had been masking it.

Hermione shrugged a bit. "He's been behaving childishly for a while now. But that's not unexpected of him." She sounded disappointed, and was indeed.

Harry sighed, his eyes turning back to Draco.

"He's got a lovely face," Luna commented vaguely. "Almost like a Veela."

Unsure what to say, Harry simply nodded, weakly. Hermione, uncomfortable, stood and hurried off to try and find Degotoga. She wanted to discuss some things with him.

Luna watched her go briefly before turning her eyes back to Harry. "You've lost something, Harry," Luna pointed out, as if he hadn't noticed.

"Oh… yeah…" he murmured, glancing at his left shoulder and the empty space where his arm should be. "I'm not sure how exactly I lost it… I don't really remember."

"We're all quite gifted in crafting, here. I'm sure we can make you a replacement… but I'm not sure how well they would work." She absently returned to washing Draco's face and shoulders, gently getting the ground-in dirt off of his body.

"…what?" Harry was beyond confused. How could they possibly make him a replacement arm?

"Your glasses," Luna stated, as if it were obvious. She didn't even look at him as she was saying it, focused on Draco. "We could make new ones with normal glass, but without magic, the lenses wouldn't really help you see. I think you look fine without them, but you just look… less like you." She shrugged, smiling.

Confused, Harry raised his hand to his face and indeed, his glasses were gone. He hadn't even noticed when he'd lost them. The lenses had been so cracked and filthy that his natural eyesight wasn't much worse. Sighing, he just shrugged. "I guess I'll have to get used to not seeing anything," he murmured.

Neville, having grown restless, was reluctant to leave Luna's side, but he wanted to go and speak with the elderly woman he had spotted earlier, who reminded him of a kinder version of his gran. He stood and moved across the cave, sat at the woman's feet, beside the child, and smiled.

The woman returned his smile, eternity in her ageless eyes, and began softly telling him stories of her youth. He listened in awe, and the child clambered into his lap, hugging her doll and smiling up at him with pure innocence in her eyes. Neville smiled. This life was rich with certain things that couldn't be gotten anywhere but here, in a place where everyone had something in common. Where everyone had survived more than just their own personal battles, but also the storms that the world had sent at them. These people were so gentle, so worldly. He could become comfortable here. He could make this his home.

Pleased by the sight, Luna smiled and turned back to Draco, who was groaning softly, his head tipping from side to side.

Harry, who had been distracted watching Neville, turned his eyes quickly back to Draco. "Oh… oh my god, he's waking up!" he whispered, shifting closer and placing his arm across Draco's chest to keep him from trying to sit up. "Draco, can you hear me? Don't try to move, you're hurt." He had to put a little bit of weight against Draco whose knee-jerk reaction was to sit bolt upright.

Draco relaxed at Harry's command, and instead attempted to open his eyes. He had quite a bit of difficulty, as if the dim light in the cave was blinding to him. A moment later he squeezed them shut again, unable to see through the harsh glow that made his dry, ash-filled eyes water painfully. "What… ow… oh… Merlin…" he choked, his voice strangled as internal explosions of pain began to shoot through every nerve ending.

"You're going to be all right. You just can't move, okay?" Harry assured him softly, a smile spread across his face. Draco had been in a comatose state for nearly a week, and he was finally waking up. It gave Harry new life.

Draco was silent for a moment, before slowly attempting to open his watery eyes again, blinking rapidly for a few seconds before his blurred gaze landed on Harry. "How long have I been out?" He moaned, attempting to raise his hand to rub at his throbbing temples, but his body was so weak he couldn't even lift a finger. He couldn't believe that a moment ago he'd even attempted to sit up. The pounding in his head assured him that he would have hit the ground faster than his brain could send the signal to sit up. The all-consuming lethargy in his body didn't help any.

"Almost a week," Harry whispered. "I thought you'd never wake up."

"A week?" Draco breathed. "Bloody hell… what's happened? Where are we?" He turned his head, or rather let his head fall weakly to the right, taking in all the blurry bodies moving in and out of his range of vision.

"Somewhere safe," Luna assured him in her soothing voice, and Draco tipped his head back to squint at her, trying to blink the soot out of his eyes. She was smiling over him, still gently washing two weeks' worth of blood, sweat and dirt from his face.

"Who are you?" Draco slurred, closing his eyes again slowly. They stung horribly.

"My name is Pamuya," she began airily, wringing out the cloth and running her fingers through his hair softly. She took the cloth again after letting it soak in the water and began washing his hair with mind and deliberation. "But you wouldn't know me by that name. Does Luna Lovegood mean anything to you?"

Draco let out a wheezy sounding laugh. "Loony Lovegood, huh? Figures you survived. People with that much air in their head can survive anything." He weakly shifted, trying to get comfortable, in vain. He felt like he was going to vomit.

Luna merely smiled. "I suppose that's a good thing for me, then, yes?" she offered sweetly.

Draco smiled at that, impressed that she hadn't taken the bait. Any other girl would have huffed, slapped him, and gone off to sulk somewhere. "It sure is," he muttered. "Damn sure."

At that moment, Hermione was at his side, having finally noticed that he was awake. "Oh my god, you're awake!" She cried, dropping to her knees beside him and gently leaning over him to look him in the eye. "I'm so glad," she whispered, holding her hair back with one hand so it didn't fall down into his face.

Draco grinned tiredly, his red eyes still squinted. "All right Granger? So, it seems my theory about air-heads being the only ones who can survive is wrong."

Hermione smiled weakly at the off-handed compliment, very lightly tapping his nose. "Enough cheek. Get better. We need you." She looked really thoughtful for a moment, then quickly stood and moved away, her expression suddenly unreadable.

Draco craned his head a bit, trying to watch her go, but eventually let his head fall back against Luna's lap again, groaning. "Potter, why's Granger acting so odd?"

"Because she's grown fond of you. We all have." Harry cringed. "Well, um… Ron hasn't, but…"

Draco grimaced at that. "I think I can live without Weasley's affection. And blimey, never thought I'd live to see the day when the better half of the Golden Trio actually liked me…"

"Well, I'm glad you have." Harry shifted, settling down beside him and taking in their surroundings. "I still can't believe this is all real…" he whispered.

"Worst bloody nightmare I've ever had." Draco closed his eyes tiredly, exhausted despite the week-long nap he'd had. "Goodnight, Potter."

"Promise you'll wake up again?" Harry whispered, resting his chin softly against Draco's shoulder.

Draco smiled tiredly, letting out a weary sigh. "Only if you promise that I'll wake up to a better life."

Harry was silent for a moment, and then, softly,

"I promise."

**AN: So, what do you think of the tribe? Who do you think is going to end up with who? Who do you think is in the most danger of dying? Do you think any of them are in danger any more? What about Draco and his internal wounds? Ginny and her head wound? Your thoughts and ideas are so cherished by me, keep 'em coming! :D**

**Special thanks to Shorty McGee, ThatOneGirlNoOneNotices, IceMagic14445, GunsFallSilent, sakura sanin and Guest for your beautiful reviews. You guys keep me motivated!**

**As always, the theme song and extra story/character information can be found on The Mighty Slytherins Wiki. (Link on my profile)**


	13. Chapter 13

The sleeping arrangements were very strange. There were many little room-like caves, some of which one person could sleep, or two or more could fit comfortably. Instead of using them, the entire camp came together in the middle of the cave, right under the hole where the moonlight shone in, and cuddled together in a circle. Back to front, feet facing inward at the small fire which had burnt down to just a smolder.

Hermione was between Draco and Ginny, her back to Draco, her front to Ginny. Ron was in front of Ginny, Harry was behind Draco, and Luna was on the other side of the fire between Neville and Nakos. Degotoga and Setimika were in front of him. Tooantuh and Nantan were in front of Ron, the elderly woman whose name was Nahiossi, and the little girl were on the other side of Harry. The tall, intimidating man with the Chinese assault rifle, who they learned was named Vohkinne, was close to Setimika. He was her personal guard.

No one seemed to feel uneasy with the closeness, except for the newcomers who found it a little uncomfortable. Hermione couldn't get comfortable, feeling like she was pressed in too closely to them all. Harry could feel the little girl, Abeque, snuggled closely against his back, and he wasn't sure how to deal with the elderly woman's cold hand resting softly on his neck.

Ron was fine with having Ginny behind him, but he felt increasingly uncomfortable with Nantan pressed firmly against his front. She wasn't unpleasant, but he just didn't know her. He didn't know what to do with his hands. It would have been physically comfortable to just let them rest on Nantan's sides, but he couldn't bring himself to touch her. So they stayed glued tightly to his own sides, and for some reason, he often caught himself holding his breath.

Neville wished Luna was where he could wrap his arms around her, but she was snuggled against his back; in front of him was Sikya. Sikya was one of their warriors. She was fierce, and intimidating. And the only clothing she wore was a bit of fur around her hips, and some feathers in her hair which he couldn't seem to keep his face away from. The rest was just strips of black paint. Her entire torso was bare. It made him so uncomfortable, in fact, that he attempted to roll over and face Luna. He received several grumbles from the others telling him not to move. So he was stuck there.

The closeness was very warm, and over all they felt very safe, but it was just so intimate, so quickly. They didn't know what to do with themselves. So none of them got much sleep that night, save for Draco and Ginny, who slept like the dead.

The next morning, everyone rose with the sun, though each at different times. The hunters, Hausis and Poloma, rose first. Then the gatherers, Nantan, Chu'mana, Luna and Abeque rose. Degotoga woke around the same time, and Vohkinne got up with Setimika shortly after.

Hermione and Neville had already memorized most of their names and faces. Harry had memorized their faces, but only could recall a few of their names. Ron forgot their faces each time he wasn't looking directly at them, and couldn't recall any of their names to save his life, nor did he seem to want to even try to remember. Ginny and Draco hadn't even met any of them properly yet, though Hermione predicted that they both had the capacity to quickly learn and easily recall who each of them were.

Ron got up with the hunters, Hausis and Poloma, deciding he wanted to go along with them to see what their routine was, and to feel like they weren't totally dependent on these people. Neville stuck with Luna, leaving with the gatherers to find food and supplies.

Exhausted, and feeling less crowded, Hermione continued to sleep with the wounded on either side of her, and the others were silent enough to not disturb them.

Meanwhile with the hunters, Ron had been given a makeover. He wore more camouflaged clothing, and had unwillingly sat still while Nahiossi and Abeque painted on the left side of his face. He rather liked his new clothing otherwise. Like the other hunters, the clothing was less feathers and furs, and more camo and grunge.

He had an old muggle war helmet, goggles to protect his eyes, and a very dusty green jacket, which blended superbly with their surroundings down in the gorge. His weapon, though not of choice, was a mere stick. A long stick. They assured him that they would teach him how to wield other weapons once he could be trusted, but for now he was 'in training.'

Neville was among the gatherers, and his clothing matched theirs. He wore a beaded headdress, which he was still getting used to, red paint around his right eye, and a beaded jacket, with shells sewn into the shoulders. Luna said it made him look important, so he didn't immediately try to get out of wearing it, for her. He personally felt a bit silly, but decided that fitting in with these people wasn't the worst thing in the world. It made him feel like he was a part of something special again.

Back at camp, after about an hour and a half of peaceful rest, Hermione woke, and finally forced herself to get up and do something. She was reluctant to leave the warmth of snuggling between Draco and Ginny, but she knew that she was healthy enough to not be sleeping the day away. She carefully slipped free of Draco's gentle hold, and softly moved Ginny closer to him, so that they wouldn't get cold without her between them. They didn't wake.

Sighing softly, Hermione moved over to sit at Nahiossi's feet as she worked on something. "Hello, Nahiossi," she said respectfully.

The elderly woman smiled at her tenderly, reaching forward to softly hold Hermione's cheek in her aged hand. "Hello my dear. You may call me grandmother. Everyone else does." She let out a wheezing chuckle. "Except for Sikya and Nakos… those two…" she shook her head, but she was smiling. "They were meant for this lifestyle, you know. I often wonder if they were born in the wrong time." Her eyes sparkled as she continued to carefully knit. Her eyes traveled over Hermione's apparel; Draco's tattered black blazer and Neville's oversized sweater vest paired with Hermione's worn old converse sneakers.

"You need new clothing, my dear." She set aside what she was working on and stood, groaning just a little, twisting from side to side, her back giving off a tremendously loud crack, and then reaching for Hermione's hand. "Come with me dear."

Hermione smiled softly and stood, taking the woman's arm and going with her, slowly, over to a mound of bushes and rocks. It was a nest. A very large, man-made nest of sorts, and inside were all manners of tattered rags and strips of cloth, as well as clothing which had been lovingly restored by Nahiossi.

"The gatherers in the group… Nantan, Abeque Chu'mana… and the others… they found these things, and all they needed was a bit of smartening up…" her eyes sparkled at that, and she used her small, aged hands to carefully measure Hermione's size; waist line, shoulders, torso, and then picked out something from the nest. "Here child, this will fit you better, and give you more modesty. You can change over there, no one will disturb you. Come and let me see how you look when you're done, and I'll fix your hair."

Hermione watched the woman slowly go back to her chair, before turning and carefully making her way across the empty cave, hiding herself in the nook and nervously peeking out. Nakos and Sikya were arm-wrestling on the other side of the caves, animalistic grins plastered on their painted faces. Nahiossi was back in her chair, knitting. Degotoga and Setimika sat on mats, facing one another. They seemed to be meditating, and Numees was praying over them. Vohkinne stood by Setimika, guarding her like a hawk. Tooantuh sat near Ginny, Draco and Harry, and she was carefully reading through some old medicinal books, which were fraying and ashy.

No one showed any signs of coming near the nook Hermione was in, but she was still fearful that one of them might decide to come over while she was dressing. With fumbling fingers, she slid Draco's jacket off, and carefully folded it. Rather than taking Neville's vest off first, she stepped into the woven dress and slid it up her body before carefully peeling the woolen, crusty sweater off. She smoothed her hands softly down the new dress, which was an earthy tone, comfortable, and reached down, well-passed her knees. She felt safer now, more protected.

Nervously, she collected her old clothing and carefully came back out to show herself to Nahiossi, who beamed at the sight of her. "Beautiful, dear. You look lovely. Come here, let me fix your hair." She beckoned the girl closer, and Hermione carefully sat at her feet again, her back pressed against the woman's knees. Nahiossi then spent a careful hour gently combing her fingers through Hermione's hair, untangling and getting rid of sticks and bugs. She braided a few strands here and there, and to finish it all off, gave Hermione a feathery, flowery crown, a little like Luna's, only less earth-princess, and more sky fairy. The feathers were beautiful, and the flowers were brightly colored. They had been dried, so that they wouldn't wilt. It was very lovely, not something Hermione had ever pictured herself wearing before now.

"I love it, thank you," Hermione said softly, sad despite her subtle excitement at the prospect of this new, comfortable life.

"What's the matter, child?" Nahiossi asked as she carefully painted a beautiful tattoo onto Hermione's right arm.

Hermione shrugged softly, and Nahiossi pursed her lips at the movement, as she was trying to draw. "I'm just… really tired." Hermione sighed heavily, rubbing at her eyes tiredly and looking down at the pretty tattoo. "That's lovely."

Nahiossi smiled and nodded. "I used to paint all the time. I love to paint. I'm glad that my family here allows me use their bodies as canvases, I think I'd go a little mad without something to draw on." Her eyes sparkled again, and Hermione was painfully reminded of the never ending twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes.

Smiling sadly, she stood, looking at the tattoo, smoothing her hands over the dress and admiring the fact that her black and white converse shoes looked so painfully out of place. And they were beginning to chafe horribly, as she wasn't wearing socks, and the bandages that Neville had carefully wrapped around her feet were still soggy from walking through the river.

"Would you like me to make you some moccasins dear?" Nahiossi asked gently.

"Please," Hermione agreed softly, sitting down and mournfully removing the shoes. She wanted to keep them in good condition. They meant a great deal to her. So many memories… Just thinking about them brought tears to her eyes as she dumped the trickle of water out of them.

"Oh, child, don't cry." Nahiossi reached for her, and Hermione allowed the woman to comfort her. "We have each other here. All is not lost. You'll see."

Hermione wasn't so sure. She closed her eyes, and fell into a troubled sleep, hugging the soggy shoes tightly.

Harry woke about a half hour later, his shoulder stiff and sore from lying in the same position for so long. Groaning, he moved, stretched, and slowly sat up. He smiled softly at Draco beside him, and Ginny in front of Draco, curled into a ball, her face hidden behind her red hair and her forehead pressed against Draco's back.

"Where is everyone…?" Harry mumbled, yawning. Looking around the clearing without his glasses proved how awful his eyesight really was. All he saw were blurs and vague outlines of even more blurs.

Tooantuh's face slowly came into better focus as she put it close to his. "Hello Harry. Be still, I want to check your shoulder." She softly unbuttoned his shirt and slid it away from his shoulder socket, carefully inspecting the mostly healed wound. With a satisfied nod, she re-buttoned his shirt and cupped his cheek. "You are healing beautifully. Are you hungry?"

"Yes," Harry said quickly, very hungry indeed. The Tribe hadn't eaten anything the night before, nor had they offered any food to the newcomers.

"The gatherers just got back with some canned foods we can eat. The hunters won't be back for another hour or two." She stood and moved out of his range of sight, and then returned a moment later with an open, unlabeled can in her palm. The food inside smelt like some kind of fish, though. She held out a bite for him to take.

"I'm right handed, you know. I can feed myself." He said with a shy grin, not wanting to be babied by her.

Tooantuh smiled. "Yes, but I don't want you spilling any of it with that terrible eyesight of yours. Open wide."

Harry sighed heavily and obeyed, accepting the bite and chewing slowly, cringing at the taste. He'd never been a fan of sardines. "How did you know I can't see well?" He asked after swallowing.

Tooantuh smiled again, offering him another bite which he accepted eagerly, hungry enough to not care about the fishy taste. "I can see it in the way you look at everything, as if you can't tell what the hell anything is."

He chuckled softly, nodding. "An apt description, yes. I can hardly see at all without my glasses. I'm practically worthless now, I suppose." He sighed heavily. "Only one arm, can't see a bloody thing. I've been such a burden to them." He turned his eyes mournfully to Draco, who had carried him for weeks.

Tooantuh kissed his head again softly, surprising him again. "You aren't worthless. Setimika is a good chief. She will find you something to do. Everyone has a place here, even if the only place you fill is to make your friends happy for your very existence, then that is what you will exist for, all right?"

Harry nodded somberly, rubbing at his sore shoulder socket, wincing as his hand felt nothing but his shoulder and his side. It was so strange… he kept feeling like the next time he ran his hand over the spot, his arm would magically appear… "I really don't feel like I have much to live for anymore," he admitted at a whisper.

Tooantuh looked at him sadly, carefully stroking her fingers through his hair. "What about him?" She nodded to Draco, who was curled up by Harry's side. He had rolled over some time during the day, so that he faced Harry, who suddenly realized that the Slytherins' arm was draped lightly across his lap. "You two have been inseparable since you got here. Surely you have him to live for?"

Harry shrugged, timidly reaching over to brush Draco's white hair from his pale face. "He and I used to be sworn enemies, can you believe? But for some reason… he saved me from the brink of death, and carried me across the zombie lands… on his back across narrow ledges… I don't know why he put so much care into keeping me around when all I was doing was holding him back. So he suddenly means a lot to me. And I don't want to die… and allow his effort to be in vain."

Smiling at his words, Tooantuh shifted so she sat more comfortably, eyeing them back and forth. "You two would look good together. But at the moment, there are more women than men. You will more than likely be asked to father a few children in the future to keep the population going, and to try and ensure that inbreeding is at a minimum. But you two can still be together, if you wish."

Harry choked on both statements. "N-no I'm not interested in Draco like that-" he hurriedly assured. "He just… I never had a father… or any siblings… I don't know, he just feels… more like an older brother… fatherly sort of person to me." He stared at the ground, blushing furiously at the thought of he and Draco… "Blimey…. No. Not like that."

Tooantuh's eyes sparkled at his reaction, and she barely contained a giggle. "All right then, if you say so." She stood, and moved over to the nest that Nahiossi had gotten clothing for Hermione from. She returned a moment later with an American Indian shirt, a thick, beaded necklace, and a lovely headdress. "Here, these are more comfortable than what you're wearing. If you want to bathe before you change, there's a water basin over in that corner. If you need assistance, let me know."

Harry accepted the clothing gratefully. "Oh, no, I'll be fine. Thank you," he murmured, internally blushing at the thought of the beautiful woman helping him bathe… he shuddered just a little bit, and groaned as he stood, limping heavily over to the corner. Half his body was numb from sleeping on the hard ground.

Glancing around nervously, he noted where everyone was. He couldn't make out faces, but everyone was over on the other side of the cave, and he was relatively shielded from view. So he began carefully undressing, having the hardest time undoing his buttons, and on the verge of giving up.

"Need help Harry?" Luna's voice suddenly appeared, and he jumped, startled.

"Oh, Luna, yes… can you undo the buttons?" He asked, thoroughly embarrassed that he couldn't even do that, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Of course." She stepped forward and carefully undid each and every button, and then helped him out of his crusty, tattered jacket.

"I thought you and the other… um… gatherers were out looking for food?" Harry asked timidly as she helped him out of his equally filthy and tattered t-shirt.

"I was, we just got back," Luna replied.

"No, right, of course. Tooantuh already told me that, I forgot," Harry muttered.

Luna smiled at him, and without being asked to do so, she stuck around and helped him wash off his face, hair, back and chest. Sensing that she would have been willing to help him with everything, Harry thanked her and told her he could do the rest.

"You needn't be embarrassed, Harry. You have lost a great deal of mobility. We're your family now. We're here to help you."

Harry nodded somberly. "Yeah, well I am embarrassed anyway. Thank you, Luna, but I can handle myself."

"I'll stay right here, I won't look. Just let me know when you need to get dressed. I had to dress myself once, with only one hand… it was rather difficult." She trailed off, staring off into space as she recalled the memory, the corners of her lips twitching a bit as she found it funny.

Harry forced a weak chuckle, eager for her to turn away so he could get his uncomfortably stiff jeans off. Two weeks' worth of dried mud, blood, and other filth, had hardened them to the point where he had to walk at a hobble, and they chafed horribly in all the wrong places.

"I'll let you get to it, then." Luna turned slowly to face away, still smiling and thinking of the time she had been attempting to do her homework whilst dressing herself. It had proven difficult in the most humorous way, and to the day, she couldn't recall why she'd even attempted it.

"All right Harry?" She asked.

"Yes, Luna. Fine. Don't look," Harry said quickly, still attempting to unbuckle his belt. He cursed softly to himself, relieved as he finally got it to slip free. And now, all he had to get was the bloody button, and the zipper, and yank the damn things off, all of which proved to be easier said than done.

"Blimey… Luna…?" It killed him inside to ask for her help.

"Do you want me to keep my eyes closed, Harry?" Luna asked, not turning back to him yet.

"Yes! Yes, please, that would be brilliant," Harry agreed quickly. "I just can't get the bloody jeans off."

Luna nodded, turning to him slowly, her eyes closed, and her usual serene smile plastered on her pretty face. She helped him with the button and the zipper, and he managed to kick them off after, thanking her and telling her to go away, not in those words, a more stuttering, 'thanks but no thanks' sort of way. She obeyed, much to his relief, and he was able to clean himself off in peace.

When he was finished, he pulled on the nice, clean, soft fur trousers, but had to call for Luna's help to get the top on. It was material that appeared to have once been a sack of grain or similar, with beads sewn carefully into the breast and shoulders. Luna pinned the left sleeve at his right hip so that it wasn't just flapping around like he had a ghost arm.

Next, she fastened the necklace around his neck. It draped over his shoulders and chest lightly, and made him look important. Next was the headdress, which framed his face and made his eyes pop. Smiling brilliantly, she took his hand and brought him out to show him to Nahiossi, who was not content until she convinced Harry to let her paint on him.

Harry was a bit nervous, as she painted around his right eye, but her hand was steady, and the end result was stunning. Smiling at them shyly, he squinted at his reflection in a cracked mirror. He felt like he officially fit in with the oddest group of people to ever exist, and he was okay with that.

Turning back to them, he smiled and tipped his head politely. "Thank you."

Hermione had woken halfway through his transformation, and was now smiling at him from where she sat by Draco. "You look wonderful, Harry," she called, her voice amused.

Harry, blushing, told her to shove it as he gingerly sat down beside her.

"Your chief will be given special clothing when he wakes." Degotoga told them as he slowly moved across the cave, nodding to Draco. "And Setimika and I have agreed that his role as a leader should not come to an end after becoming a part of our group. His judgment will be taken earnestly. I will ask him to be my adviser when he wakes."

Hermione nodded, thanking him softly. Once again, she wondered why she had told them that Draco was their leader. In a moment of vulnerability, she had panicked and thrust the leadership role onto him. And she knew that Ron was upset about it. One thing was certain, she didn't want Draco to be given a place of power, and have it go to his head. She didn't want to lose the caring person he was becoming.

"He's waking up again," Tooantuh interrupted softly, and Hermione and Degotoga turned to him.

Draco groaned softly, his eyes slowly opening. Hermione smiled and knelt down beside him, brushing his hair back from his eyes. "How are you feeling?" She asked softly.

Draco smiled tiredly. "I've been better." His voice was hoarse, and his eyes went back and forth between Hermione and Harry. "Blimey, you look like clowns. What the bloody hell are you wearing?" He furrowed his brow at how ridiculous they looked, in his opinion.

"Nahiossi was nice enough to make us some clothes." Hermione ran her thumbs over the holes in his suit. "You should change into something else too. This is filthy and it can't be very warm."

Draco groaned. "All right, just… no feathers, please?" he turned his pleading gaze on Tooantuh, who looked highly amused.

"Very well," she agreed, turning to little Abeque who was standing shyly behind her. "Abeque, please help Nahiossi pick something out for him?"

Abeque nodded and scurried off to obey.

Tooantuh turned back to Draco, kneeling down to carefully begin unbuttoning his shirt, which instantly made him uncomfortable.

"I can change myself," he cringed and tried to sit up. Instantly, Harry, Hermione and Tooantuh pounced on him and forced him back down.

"Don't move, bloody idiot, you'll hurt yourself!" Harry cried, shaken. He was still very terrified of something going wrong suddenly. He couldn't lose Draco now.

"Blimey Potter, blimey! I get it!" Draco cast them all disgruntled glares, and they let go of him.

Tooantuh smiled uncomfortably. "Perhaps your friends can help you change. Call me if you need me." She stood and hurried away.

Abeque came back over, dark clothing in her arms. "You're wearing all black, so we figured the color means something to you." She said delicately in a thick Irish accent, gently laying out the clothing. She unfolded the jacket, which was very clearly made specifically for someone of importance. It was black, with golden embroidery. The trousers were simple and black, and in better shape than the dress pants he currently wore, with tears in the knees and patches of dried mud.

"And, this is to protect your shoulder. Tooantuh says you've badly damaged it." Abeque set out a leather and fur shoulder pad, which would be strapped over his clothing. It reminded him of something a Viking would wear.

Sighing heavily, he accepted that with just a nod and a soft thank you to the little girl who hurried away to let Harry and Hermione help him into his new clothing.

"This is going to be difficult to do without you sitting up. You absolutely can't." Hermione told him firmly.

Draco grunted in response. "Just cut the bloody thing off of me. I don't plan on ever wearing it again," he whispered, his shaking fingers running over the last tailored suit he would ever wear. He bit his lip rather hard as he clearly remembered the day he'd gotten it. It had fit him perfectly, and it had been tailored to perfection. Now, it was baggy, and tattered. And filthy.

"Draco, don't do that, you're hurting yourself," Harry whispered, running his thumb gently over Draco's chin to get him to stop digging his teeth into his lip.

Emotional, and feeling vulnerable, Draco sucked in a sharp breath and blinked rapidly. "Can I change later? I really don't feel like it right now…"

"Draco, you've got to get out of these, Tooantuh says that you've got cuts and scrapes that need to be tended to, and these filthy clothes aren't helping them heal any," Hermione told him gently. "We can cut it at its' seems so that Nahiossi can repair it later. She's good at that."

Draco was silent for a moment, staring blankly up at the cave ceiling. "Okay," he finally breathed, trembling slightly. Hermione and Harry were only vaguely aware of how difficult this was for him. He was letting go of the last bit of his old life. And it felt like a knife was being twisted in his gut. Granted, he knew that most of the physical pain was from his injuries… but the nausea he felt was mostly from the terror of letting go of that last bit of who he used to be.

"Ready?" Hermione asked gently, reaching forward to lay a comforting hand on his chest.

His wide blue eyes landed quickly on her, and his chest rose and fell shallowly under her hand. Chaotically, he nodded.

Hermione and Harry got to work helping him out of his old clothes and into his new ones, which was an uncomfortable twenty minutes of inch by inch so as to not agitate his wounds. Tooantuh had been right about all the unhealed scrapes under his clothing. He had a bad gash on his knee, and stray scrapes scattered all over his pallid skin.

Watching Hermione carefully strap the shoulder brace as the last addition to his new outfit, Draco let out the breath he'd been holding, trying not to squirm as Abeque carefully brushed a bit of paint under his eyes. His gaze turned to the bit of broken mirror that Harry now held over him so he could see what he looked like.

Letting out a strangled laugh, he ran his fingers through his limp white hair, trying to get it to settle down a bit. "Blimey. I look bloody awful," he said hoarsely, rubbing his tired, blood-shot eyes and smearing the red paint that Abeque had just put in place. Pouting, she took a clean cloth and wiped the old paint away, starting over.

"What do you think of your new clothes?" Hermione asked curiously.

He smiled shakily, keeping his eyes closed so that Abeque didn't accidentally poke his eyeballs, which he was convinced was going to happen anyway. "Go ahead and say it; 'Welcome to the circus.'." He opened his eyes when Abeque was done, turning his gaze to Harry. Noting that the boy was staring at him, almost longingly, he furrowed his brow. "What is this?" He asked softly, sadly, indicating nothing specifically, though Harry seemed to get the gist of his question.

"A better life," Harry responded dolefully, looking away because he was convinced that Draco was still unhappy.

To Hermione and Harry's surprise, Draco's face broke into a wide, exhausted grin. With the genuine smile, the unusual clothing and the bright face paint, he looked like an entirely different person. "You kept your promise, then?" Obviously amused, his grin only widened.

Confused by his drastic change in demeanor, and suddenly feeling left out, Hermione looked back and forth between the two former sworn enemies, then stood and left them alone.

Draco's grin faded a bit, and his eyes followed her. "What's the matter, are we no longer choice company?"

Hermione stopped, turning back to the boys. Hugging her arms, she looked anywhere but them. "I just… want to get my moccasins from Nahiossi. I think she's almost finished with them." She turned and left them without another word.

Draco furrowed his brow a bit, staring after her. "Is she behaving oddly?"

Harry nodded somberly, watching her blur fade until it was mixed with all the other blurs. "Yeah, a little," he agreed quietly, then turned back to Draco, who was closer and nowhere near as fuzzy. "I'm glad you're feeling better. You were half dead for the better part of a week. I thought you'd never wake up."

"Well, I had to keep my side of the promise." Draco sighed and folded his arms over his chest, staring up at the patch of sky that could be seen high above them. "This place… a couple of weeks ago, this place would have disgusted me. Now? Now… now…" his voice grew softer and suddenly he wasn't looking at the cave ceiling. He was looking at something far away, far beyond anything Harry could see. Memories… even with his blurred sight, Harry could tell that Draco was reliving memories, and he could tell they weren't very good ones.

"'Now'… now what?" Harry asked softly, placing his hand softly on Draco's forearm.

Draco snapped out of his reverie, turning his head to look at him. "Now…" he whispered, still looking a bit distant. "Now I don't know. It feels… comfortable." He grinned again, shaking his head. "Not the ground, it's bloody hard as a… well, rock." He slapped his palm against the rock floor.

Harry smiled laughingly. He liked Draco like this. He'd never seen the boy smile so much.

"I don't know, I feel like I've been hit with a happy jinx of some kind. Do I seem different?" He furrowed his brow, the ghost of a smile still lingering on his face, though confusion now was taking over his expression.

Harry nodded, smiling uncertainly. "Yeah… but it's brilliant. You seem… happy. I don't think I've ever seen that on you before."

Draco nodded slowly, his smile fading, then growing, then fading again. "I don't think I've ever felt this… bloody giddy before. Did Tooantuh spike my medicine?"

"Muggle painkillers tend to make you a bit loopy," Harry murmured.

Draco let out a dry laugh at that. "Muggle medicine…. Blimey. A couple weeks ago I'd have considered it no less than poison…"

Harry sighed softly. "I hope it's not the medicine… though. I like you like this. You're… brighter. You could light up a dark room with that… that… bloody smile of yours..." He looked away uncomfortably.

Draco stared at him in confusion for a moment. "All right then… I'm… really tired…"

"Right. I should, let you sleep…" Harry made a move to stand, but stopped when he felt Draco's hand grasp weakly at his wrist.

"I didn't say you had to leave." Draco's words were so soft, that Harry could almost convince himself that they hadn't been spoken at all.

"O-okay…" Harry breathed, settling back down beside him, watching the boy close his eyes, watching his grin fade as he drifted off, the ghost of a smile still on his face as he slept.

Across the cave, away from where Harry could see, Hermione watched. She couldn't place the feeling that was spreading from the tips of her toes to every strand of hair. The tingling in her stomach was so overwhelming she thought she might vomit. She hadn't a name for it yet…

But it was jealousy.

**AN: So Hermione's confusing her gratefulness for Draco with stronger feelings. Does she** **think she's falling in love with Draco, but she's actually mistaking her sudden great gratitude toward him for love? Or is she really falling for him? What about Draco and Harry? What about Ron? What about Neville, Luna and Ginny? Who do you think is in the most danger of dying? What do you think of their makeovers?**

**Special thanks to silena197, Shorty McGee, carick of hunter moon, Icemagic14445, ThatGirlNoOneNotices, heronlove, unicornboo, TearsLost and Deja-Q for your wonderful reviews! You guys keep me inspired to keep writing!**

**As always if you want to read more on the story or see what the characters look like (as well as Ron, Neville, Hermione, Harry and Draco's new makeovers) check out the Mighty Slytherins Wiki! (Link on my profile)**

**If you want to hear character themes or the theme for this story go to my youtube channel! (Link on my profile)**


	14. Chapter 14

The New Black World Tribe stuck together in small, definitive groups of three or less. These groups seemed to single each other out rather than mingle with the entire tribe as one. Hermione had yet to have a conversation with all of them at once, and the only time she'd seen them all together was at night, when they had all slept together in the middle of the cave.

So far, she and the others had been with the tribe for three days, and each night the sleeping arrangements were exactly the same. Neville had tried to end up behind Luna this time, but he was once against stuck in front of her, and behind Sikya.

Draco was doing only a little better, but the spotlight had suddenly been stolen by Ginny early that morning, when she had woken up, and been fully aware. She had been all morning. She answered questions, asked her own, and ate without needing assistance.

The only thing that truly bothered anyone about her suddenly coming back as if from death was the fact that she hadn't the slightest clue who she was, or who anyone else was. Ron had been plastered to her side ever since she'd woken, but she had yet to acknowledge that she knew him. She dodged direct questions about herself or anyone she knew, because the questions confused her greatly.

She didn't react in any way around any of them, like she was meeting them for the first time and didn't truly care who any of them were. And it both hurt and disturbed them.

"She's suffered significant head trauma. This isn't unusual," Tooantuh murmured, carefully collecting herbs. It was the heat of day, and the silence in the gorge was deafening. The gentle sound of the river drowned out any other sounds, like zombies. Hermione had spotted a swarm of them up on the cliff an hour prior, but they seemed to dislike water. They had turned and headed East. Nakos and Sikya had tracked them for five miles. They weren't turning back.

Hermione's lip trembled slightly as she thought of having the zombies so close. That, and having her best friend back… but not really. She had been eager to have someone to confide in again, which she had tried… but Ginny had just stared at her politely, trying to act interested though it was obvious that she didn't give a damn. Even the memory of it stung.

"All we can do is hope that seeing you lot regularly will eventually bring her memory back. If she'll ever regain it completely…" Tooantuh looked uncertain. "But at the very least, we can be hopeful that she'll start to remember who she is at least, maybe who you are, in the next week or two."

"What if she doesn't?" Hermione asked worriedly, picking at the blades of grass.

Tooantuh straightened, her handful of herbs held in the water, to let the current wash off any bugs or ash particles that might be on it. She gave Hermione a sympathetic smile. "Then… she doesn't."

Hermione's shoulders drooped, and she sat down unhappily on the grassy bank, crossing her legs. She sighed heavily, helping Tooantuh pick the herbs and wash them off.

Meanwhile, Ron and the other hunters were out searching on the rocks, still keeping tabs on the Zombie swarm that had been spotted several hours prior, though their main focus, since the zombies didn't seem to be coming anywhere near them, was to search for edible creatures.

Ron had gotten the hang of hunting, and had traded in his long stick for a spear. So far he'd caught several large rodents; two rats, a rabbit and a hare. He wasn't very pleased by the idea of eating any of them, but survival was just that. He found himself gripping his spear tightly, his eyes narrowed, and his anger channeled into the helpless creatures he caught.

They spent a lot of time in silence, still, waiting. He turned his thoughts off at these times, unable to handle them constantly invading his happiness. Whenever he let his mind wander, he found that the time passed too quickly, as if in a blur, and he lost focus. It was these times that Poloma or Hausis would ask him if he was still alive.

The two women certainly weren't anything like Hermione – they were attractive women – Poloma in a bulldoggish sort of way – and seemed decently intelligent but they just weren't the same. He enjoyed their company to a certain extent but he found himself missing hers… and his mind wandered.

"Bollocks, Ronald! You let a rat slip right under your nose, you right git, that could have fed the lot of us you wanker, keep your head in the game!" Poloma certainly was like Hermione in the sense that she didn't stand for nonsense, and the way she dealt with it was like torturously, agonizingly slowly peeling off a band-aid. But with Poloma it hurt more, because somehow Ron knew that she meant those names she called him. Hermione's criticism was constructive. He missed seeing her 'I told you so' expression, and hearing her know-it-all intonation, as opposed to Polomas' 'you got it wrong again, you stupid prick' expressions.

Sighing heavily, Ron spear-headed a small, mangy rodent that was obviously disease-ridden, and most-definitely couldn't be eaten.

"Blimey, that thing's seen better days." Poloma grabbed the squealing, bleeding rat by its tail, watching with morbid curiosity as the last bit of life drained from its body.

Ron made a face, feeling ill. "You enjoy this a bit too much," he moaned, holding his stomach. Muggles were bloody barbaric. Killing these things with a wand would have been so much cleaner.

Poloma turned to him with that wild look in her eyes. "Are you turning into a Nancy boy on me? Don't tell me you're squeamish, are you? You haven't got puny balls, have you?"

Ron felt increasingly uncomfortable, especially with the way Hausis had stopped, leant against her spear to watch, and seemed to enjoy witnessing him squirm.

Ron leaned back, scowling when Poloma held out the rat, right in his face. "Smells bloody awful, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does, would you get it out of my face?" Ron slapped her arm away, and she smirked at him, her eyes dancing. In the dictionary, her picture simply _had _to be next to the word 'she-man'. She was masculine as any caveman, with broad shoulders, a strong jaw and what Ron could only imagine a hell of a right hook. She and Sikya seemed made for each other, though Sikya seemed to fancy Nakos, and Ron doubted either woman was gay.

Shaking his head to rid it of the suddenly horrifying visuals of Poloma and Sikya, he pushed passed them, gripping his spear tightly. "Are we going to just stand around all day or what?"

"Actually we'd better be heading back," Hausis butted in with her saucy, seductive voice. She didn't even try to sound that way, either. Ron figured that any man attempting to argue with the woman would lose very quickly. Her voice was just so goddamn sexy, and her entire demeanor was so confident and womanly. He knew he would have fallen for her, in a heartbeat, had his heart not beat for someone else.

"All right then, let's go." Ron sighed and turned back, suddenly stopping when he heard something devastatingly familiar. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard, and the women stopped in their tracks, looking highly confused.

"Blimey," Ron face-palmed so hard he felt a headache coming on from it.

"What on earth is that wretched noise?" Poloma cried, covering her ears.

"Myrtle," Roan moaned.

"Myrtle? It's a bloody person?" Poloma cried.

"Moaning Myrtle, yes… sort of. She's…" Ron trailed off, spotting the weeping ghost a few feet off, hiding in some bushes, wailing pitifully. She didn't appear to have spotted them yet. "Dead…"

"…dead?" Hausis interjected calmly, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Come on." Ron hesitantly approached the ghost girl, carefully crouching down by her elbow.

She yelped when he spoke, spinning around to glare at the lot of them. Poloma and Hausis shrieked at the sight, jumping back in alarm.

"You!" Myrtle cried accusingly, rising up above them, looking angry.

"Myrtle, do you know if anyone else survived?" Ron asked with forced calm.

_"I don't know," _Myrtle huffed, crossing her arms. "I was just sitting in my toilet, waiting for Draco to come back… he stopped visiting me…" she trailed off, suddenly looking terribly upset. She let out a low whine.

"Myrtle, survivors?" Ron prompted.

Myrtle sniffed, turning away. "None that I could help. I'm a ghost, I couldn't lift the beam off of her. She's dead now, I kept her company until…" she whimpered again.

"Who?"

"Professor McGonagall…" Myrtle lowered until she was sitting on the ground again, staring sadly off into the distance.

Ron dropped down heavily beside her, his heart feeling as though it had been ripped out and handed to him on a silver platter. Professor McGonagall… He strongly resisted the urge to cry, but a few stray tears leaked from his face as he thought of the brilliant old witch… still far too young to see her last day.

Myrtle turned her transparent eyes onto Ron sadly. "Who else is alive, or is it just _you?" _She said in the most disgusted manner.

Ron wiped at his eyes, unable to become insulted by the ghost's obvious disapproval at his survival. "Me, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna and Draco," he whispered hoarsely.

The dead witches' eyes lit up. "Draco's alive?" she squealed. "Oh thank Merlin!" She choked on her words, looking sad again. "B-but no. I-I'm very quite angry with him. He hasn't come to see me for months." She crossed her arms angrily, her lip trembling as she fought off the sadness, determined to replace it with anger.

"He's been a tad preoccupied being a Death Eater, but what do I care if you hate the git?" Ron muttered, slowly climbing to his feet again and turning to catch the expressions of pure terror, horror and complete and utter shock still on Poloma and Hausis' faces. Smirking, he came up to Poloma and punched her arm. "What's the matter? Haven't got puny balls, have you?"

Looking disgusted, Poloma snapped out of her shock and huffed, turning away from him. "Let's get back to camp-" she still sounded a tad shaken, and Ron smirked again.

"W-wait!" Myrtle cried, flying after them and hovering to Ron's left. He pointedly ignored her. "Can I come?"

"Don't care." Ron kept his gaze to the front of him.

Myrtle made sure to whine as much as she could on the way back, trying to irk Ron, who simply refused to let her bother him. If he was going to get mad at someone, he'd rather they be physical enough that he could strangle them for it. He knew well enough to not let her get to him – though he very much would have liked her neck to be solid enough to wrap his hands around.

It took them a good twenty minutes to get back, and they returned to a very quiet day. They passed Hermione and Tooantuh on their way, and Hermione's expression dropped when she spotted Myrtle, who scowled mightily at her, huffed, and turned away, following Ron and the others into the tunnel.

Inside was peaceful and quiet. Harry was attempting entertaining Draco, who had grown quite bored with just lying there, and Myrtle let out happy cries when she spotted the boy.

Startled, Draco raised his head to look at her, and smiled softly when he saw her. "Myrtle," he greeted warmly as she swooped over and plopped down beside him.

She smiled brilliantly, ignoring Harry who smiled and tried to say hello, as well as the startled shrieks from other members of the tribe who had never seen a ghost before. Her smile slowly faded. "Why haven't you come to see me in so long?"

Draco's smile dropped, and he looked away. "I wasn't at Hogwarts for a while… I had… um." His eyes turned desperately to Harry, who was also looking away, looking one moment from getting up and walking away. "I was a prisoner in my own home," Draco whispered, choosing his words wisely and truthfully.

Myrtle was horrified. "Oh, you poor thing, how awful!" She cried, trying to hug him. "What have you done to yourself, are you injured?"

"Yeah… internal bleeding," Draco murmured, his teeth chattering as her body was so close to his.

Myrtle gasped. "Do you think you'll die?" She experienced mixed emotions from this, not wishing harm on the boy, but quite truthfully, she wanted a haunting companion.

"I was close to it, but no, I don't think I will." Draco smiled at her. "Try not to look so disappointed."

"Oh, well. Perhaps another time." She smiled and rested beside him so she could share his view of the cave ceiling. "Silly muggles. I bet none of them have ever seen a ghost before." She pouted. "A shame they have to see miserable me as their first ghost…"

"Stop that," Draco sighed softly, not wanting her to bash herself.

Feeling uncomfortable, Harry sighed and climbed to his feet, wobbly, and teetered over to where Neville and Ron were helping to clean the animals that the hunters had captured. Neville looked eternally repulsed and only a moment away from fainting.

Meanwhile, back out by the river, Hermione and Tooantuh continued to work in silence for about ten minutes before something in the corner of Hermione's vision caught her attention. Still brooding, her expression was rather grumpy as she tipped her head so she could bring the movement into full view. Slowly, her lips parted and her eyes widened. "Tooantuh," she hissed, unable to drag her gaze away.

Tooantuh instantly grabbed her spear, spinning to face what Hermione saw.

It was a group of six people, standing about a hundred feet away on a rocky bank. One of them was stuck on an overhanging limb, and it was obvious they had just climbed down the cliff face, descending from the opposite side of the gorge that Hermione and the others had.

"Cor blimey Freakie, you always do this-" one of them was saying, just far enough away that his voice was almost overpowered by the sound of the gentle river.

The others were ignoring the two males, flat on their stomachs, cupping their hands and drinking their fill of the water. None of them appeared to have noticed Hermione and Tooantuh.

"Survivors," Tooantuh murmured softly, crouching low to the ground, and Hermione followed suit, her trembling hand firmly clutching her small blade. She found herself gripping it like it was a wand, suddenly grateful for their strange clothing. It helped them blend in with the tall, dead brush alongside the river bank.

"What should we do?" Hermione whispered nervously.

"Go and get Degotoga, Vohkinne and Sikya. Better get Nakos and Poloma as well… just in case they're unfriendly," Tooantuh ordered.

Hermione obeyed, crawling along the shore, wading across and practically diving head-first into the tunnel. She raced along the inside, her hands brushing the walls of the cave so she didn't run into anything along the twists and turns, and gasped in relief as she broke back out into the light. "People! Six of them! Not far from the cave entrance, Tooantuh's keeping an eye on them," she panted, gathering attention with her loud voice.

"Friendly?" Degotoga called to her, striding over hurriedly.

"I don't know," Hermione panted, watching practically the whole tribe clamber forward to quickly funnel through the narrow tunnel, eager to see the newcomers.

Harry and Neville scrambled over as well, but Hermione told them to stay with Draco and Ginny, already pushing into the tunnel behind the others.

By the time Hermione was back out into the daylight, Degotoga and Tooantuh had already made contact with the group. The small one that had been caught up on one of the branches was down on the ground, hugging his arm which was bleeding badly, and hanging back behind the others. He looked oddly and rather frighteningly familiar. Furrowing her brow, Hermione pushed forward. One of the other faces, that was partially blocked by Degotoga's head, was definitely familiar.

Stopping in her tracks, Hermione choked a bit. "No, not again…" she breathed, panic rising. She choked on her breath when the person's eyes turned to her, catching her staring. Turning on her heel, she sprinted back into the cave.

Ron, with the others, also recognized the woman, though he said nothing, simply stood by with the others and observed. His fists, bloody from cleaning and skinning the animals, clenched and unclenched as his eyes narrowed into suspicious slits.

**AN: So, who do you think the other survivors are? What do you think of Moaning Myrtle joining the group? Sorry I haven't updated in a while, been busy with school and such.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Sorry it's been so long since I updated… life happened. Please do let me know if you would still like updates from this story and I will give it my all to update more regularly.**

"I'm Bravo, this is Captain. She's technically our leader, but, I mean… I'm smarter, stronger, more masculine…"

"Shut up, Bravo. You're a Nancy boy, you couldn't lift half your weight if your life depended on it." Captain snapped. She was small, pale, with bright red lips. Her leather jacket was the only part of her outfit that appeared to be in decent condition. She wore a war helmet, somewhat like Ron's, a knee-length greyish dress that used to be white, and tattered black stockings under a pair of well-worn combat boots. She looked fierce, not to be messed with. Not only did she put off an aura of subtle importance, but strapped to her back was a muggle gun that was almost bigger than she was. Hanging from her lips was a cigarette that had yet to be lit.

Bravo scowled down at her, his nose twitching slightly. "I ought to be the leader. I found you, not the other way around," he muttered, sulkily turning away.

Polished, was the only word that came to mind looking at Bravo. His clothing was oddly unscathed, without a speck of blood or dirt. He had a snobbish, chiseled face, and his brown hair was groomed to perfection. He reminded Ron somewhat of a muggle version of Draco, in the supremacist way he had looked like in first through fifth year, though Bravos' physical attractiveness was nothing to pine over, nor was his personality.

A little Asian girl stood to Bravo's left, and she introduced herself as Chance. She wore knee high boots, a long black coat and a drape over her head. A backpack that appeared to weigh more than two of her combined was strapped to her back, though she didn't appear to have any struggle with it. She couldn't be older than sixteen.

Beside Chance was a tall… person. They hadn't spoken, but they'd been introduced as Hive. Their face was covered, and their body was very lanky and androgynous. They wore a long black coat similar to Chance's, with a furry hood, tall boots and baggy black pants. The only bit of skin that was exposed was a strip of pale forehead above their bright golden eyes, and the bridge of their nose.

The other woman, who stood to Captain's right, was slim and average height, blonde, blue-eyed and pale-skinned. She wore black like the others, a long black coat over a tattered, once expensive dress. Her eyes were locked on the cave entrance, where she'd spotted Hermione take cover. She had recognised her, and she looked like she wanted to race after her, though she refrained.

"Hey, Freakshow, get the hell over here you sad bastard," Bravo called.

Pale, small, black-haired and black-eyed, a teenager that was still only vaguely familiar stalked over to them, glowering behind his messy fringe. He was the one who had been caught up on the branch, the one who had fallen from the branch and hurt his arm. No one had spent any effort asking if he was okay, though it was obvious he had injured himself.

He had an exaggerated slouch, his clothing was ripped to shreds and all black, though it was distinctly a Hogwarts school uniform, and a loose green tie hung about his neck. His murderous stare was terrifying enough to send grown men whimpering into a corner, and his black eyes glinted dangerously. "You're a right tosser, Bravo," he hissed, his voice hoarse and quivering with emotion. "My name isn't _Freakshow,_ you incompetent _shit_stain-"

"Freakie…" Chance jumped in before Bravo could tackle the small boy, and it sure did look like he wanted to. She had a very thick Irish accent, and she reminded Ron a little of Cho Chang, though she had far narrower eyes, and her skin was ashen, nearly white as snow.

Freakshow shot Chance a vicious glare, dragging his gaze back to the older, taller man, tossing him a two-fingered salute, then spun on his heel and stalked off to sulk somewhere.

"Bloody freak. I told Captain we should never have let him join. We're not the Lawless Five anymore, with him we're the Freakshow Six." Bravo growled, jerking at his jacket in irritation.

"Bravo…" Chance protested weakly.

"What, Chance? _What? _Don't tell me you actually like the bloody little creep?" Bravo snapped, looking her up and down with obvious disgust. "You sure do live up to your name, you little-"

"Leave her alone," the blonde woman stepped in strongly, her jaw set in a firm line. "You goad him, Bravo, he's going to fight back. It's just the way he is. He wouldn't even look at you if you didn't spend the effort it takes to call him names and push him around. Just leave him alone."

"Tags, don't even-" Bravo began.

Degotoga cleared his throat, his arms folded over his chest while he watched the childish bickering with a blank look in his eyes.

Captain turned her attention back to Degotoga and Tooantuh, looking sheepish. "Right, sorry about… _them." _She rolled her eyes, giving them all a 'really?' sort of look, turning back to the two. "Do you have a camp around here or something? We're looking for a place to sleep."

Degotoga and Tooantuh shared a glance, then turned back to them. "You call yourselves the 'Lawless Five'…?" Degotoga prompted.

"No, the Freakshow Six," Bravo chided, and Freakshow hauled out and punched him right in the nose.

"Saw it coming!" Captain squealed, as if delighted, and Chance yelped, hiding behind Tags who was trying to hold Freakshow back.

Freakshow, practically foaming at the mouth, ripped himself free of her and turned away again, shaking his hand to try and rid the throbbing now in his thin knuckles. He glanced over his shoulder angrily, catching Ron's eye by accident, and continued on, leaning sulkily against the cliff side.

"We don't want violence in our tribe. We are a peaceful people," Nantan said gently, the entire display mellowing her normally chipper mood.

"We just need a place for a couple nights, so we can catch up on some sleep. And maybe leave Freakie with you. He… doesn't like us much." Captain glanced over her shoulder at the thin boy who was inspecting his nails, looking as if anything and everything had the capacity to piss him off.

Captain sighed heavily, turning back to them. "We found him just wandering about on his own, we couldn't leave him like that, he's half starved, but he won't eat anything we can find. He's really not healthy. He could drop dead any minute-"

"Good riddance," Bravo spat, holding his nose, blood trickling down his chin.

Captain bit her lip, looking vaguely irritated. "We don't want his death on our conscience, and if you could nurse him back to health or bury him or whatever…" she shrugged. "he's a bit of a burden, because we're travelers, and he runs out of energy real quick. If you're in one place, not moving, that would probably be better for him."

"So you're not interested in joining our tribe, just dropping off your… problem, and leaving?" Degotoga looked quite aggravated by this. He didn't mind taking in those who couldn't provide for themselves, but this would be the fourth invalid that would be entering their tribe. They needed hands that could work, feet that could walk, shoulders that could carry weight. Not another mouth to feed with absolutely no help to be given in return. If they kept taking in people of no usefulness they would run out of balance. There would be more mouths to feed than hands to feed them.

"Well… yeah." Captain shrugged. "We're not heartless, we could have just left him to die out there on his own. We're ensuring his safety. He just doesn't like any of us, he's impossible. Maybe your… down to earth… ness… would get through his thick skin." She made a face, as if she thought them lesser beings for their choice of lifestyle and wardrobe.

Her condescending expression pissed Degotoga off, and he clutched his staff more tightly. "No."

Captain raised her eyebrows. "No? You're refusing to take him in?"

"Yes, I am. He's your problem, not ours. Be gone." He turned on his heel and began heading back to the cave entrance, calling for the others to head back as well.

Tooantuh lingered, her eyes on the boy. She had already taken a mental inventory of all of his injuries. Highly observant, she could see that he was in worse shape than they were letting on. "Degotoga!" She called, without looking back. "I want him. He would make a good husband for Nantan." Having a great deal of compassion, and having sworn as a nurse to do no harm, she couldn't bear to leave the boy with these people, who obviously didn't care about him.

Freakshow looked up, looking repulsed by the idea, and he threw Tooantuh's hand off his arm when she took it. "I don't want to go with you, don't want to be _Nantans' _husband. I want to stay with my aunt." He moved closer to Tags, who had been silent through the entire thing. She turned to him, looking startled.

Freakshow looked up at her desperately. "Aunt Cissy, you won't make me stay with these troglodytes, will you?" He clung to her arm, looking up at her pleadingly with his lovely black eyes.

Tags stared down at him uncertainly. "I think it's for the best…"

"Aunt Cissy!" Freakshow protested desperately, clinging to her more tightly.

"Falin, you're badly injured. You need to stay with these people." She murmured sadly.

"Dammit I don't want to-"

"This is the kind of attitude that got you in trouble so often with your mother," Tags snapped, her expression hardening. "For once in your life do as you're told!"

Freakshow flinched, letting go of her slowly, his head hanging. "All… all right…" he whispered.

"I'll be responsible for him," Ron stepped forward unexpectedly, linking arms with the small boy and surprising everyone. He felt how thin the boys' arm was pinned under his own. His baggy clothing hid how tiny he was.

Freakshow narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he scowled and tried to squirm free, but didn't try very hard, and just gave up. "What is this supposed to be? You hated me in school, now you're suddenly jumping at the chance to be my friend?" His voice was mocking.

Ron chewed on his lip, silent, and practically dragged Freakshow over to the others, thoughts swarming through his head rapidly.

"So can we stay the night or what?" Captain asked, turning to Tooantuh, since Degotoga and the others had returned to the cave.

Tooantuh looked them up and down, her lips pursed. "My chief will be… disgruntled," she muttered, jumping slightly when thunder suddenly crashed overhead. Looking up at the sky, she sighed heavily. "Leave your weapons in the tunnel. We don't want them in the cave." She turned and beckoned for them to follow.

Smirking, Captain waved her hand above her head, and her group followed closely behind.

Chewing on his lip, Ron dragged Freakshow behind him. They were the first to enter the tunnel. "You got any weapons on you?" he muttered, his grasp tightening around the boys' small arm.

Freakshow grunted lightly, as Ron was holding his arm right where it was hurt. "No," he said through gritted teeth. "The bastards didn't trust me with any."

Not trusting him either, Ron patted him down, finding a dirty little pocket knife on him. The bo protested having it taken away, as it obviously meant something to him, but Ron couldn't care less.

Sulky now, the boy followed Ron in the dark, wearing a sour expression. "You _are_ Ronald Weasley, right?"

Ron stopped in his tracks and Freakshow slammed into him. Muttering curses, he stepped back. "Don't stop moving like that, I can't see a damn thing."

"Right… how did you know my name?" Ron asked, continuing on.

"Why were you so eager to be responsible for me? You recognize me, right?" Freakshows' voice echoed softly off the tunnel walls, and Ron could hear a smirk behind it.

Chewing on his lip hard, Ron nodded. "Yes, I recognise you. You and your _bloody_ aunt. I just hoped that I'd been mistaken."

"Then you know whose side I'm on."

Ron wrapped his hand around the back of Freakshows' shirt, propelling him roughly along. "Damn right," he growled. "Which is why I wanted to save you from the brink of death. So I can kill you myself." He dragged Freakshow out of the tunnel to where the others were waiting to see the newcomers.

Draco instantly recognized the boy, and cursed internally, hiding his face behind his hands.

Hermione, who was hiding in a corner, kept her eyes firmly locked on the tunnel entrance, dreading to see the person she knew wouldn't be far behind. After Tooantuh and Luna, came in Bravo and the others and… Tags. Narcissa Malfoy.

The woman looked around the dimly lit cave slowly, her tired eyes landing on Draco, who still was covering his face and hadn't seen her. Her lips trembled and her jaw dropped open, tears springing to her eyes. She hadn't been expecting to ever see him again. "Draco," she breathed, rushing forward only to be stopped by Nakos, who stepped in her way, looking dangerous.

"Get, _out _of my way," Narcissa hissed, equally dangerous. She pushed passed him, dropping to her knees beside her son, who looked startled as she took his face in her hands, sobbing over him and whispering how much she loved him.

"M-mum?" he whimpered, eyes wide and rapidly filling with tears. "Mum!" He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, sobbing.

Hermione watched, and Harry watched. Everyone watched, really.

"How touching. Tags has found her son," Bravo said tastelessly.

"Must you always be so vile?" Captain lamented, casting him a glare.

"I thought I told you to leave!" Degotoga thundered before Bravo could retort, eating up the ground between them in five long strides, his eyes as stormy as the sky above them.

Tooantuh quickly stepped between them. "Degotoga it is against my nature to force them to find their own shelter when a dangerous storm is approaching, and I feel that Setimika will agree that allowing them to stay until the storm passes is acceptable."

Degotoga scowled down at her, then turned and stalked off, probably to test her theory.

Ron, still holding Freakshow, rolled his eyes and dragged the boy over to Hermione, who looked up at him with still-wide eyes. "Hermione. Recognise this little twat?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh my god!" She gasped, quickly rising to her feet to glare down at the boy who shot her a murderous glare.

"Hello, Granger. Let me guess… Potter survived to? Fan-bloody-tastic! The entire Golden Trio all under the same pile of rock. Voldemort-"

"Voldemort is dead!" Ron growled, shaking the small boy angrily. "You're just as insane as the rest of his followers. You're a waste of air! Why did you get to survive, and everyone else-" Ron choked. "my family…"

"My family's dead too, you know," Freakshow hissed.

"Yeah, and whose bloody fault do you think that is?" Ron roared at him, throwing him up against a side of the cave. By now, they had attracted attention. "You bastard! Why did you survive and my family didn't? WHY!?" Ron kicked him hard in the side, and the boy curled into a ball, gagging at the impact.

"Ron!" Hermione cried in alarm, trying to hold him back, but Ron was beyond stopping. He was enraged, and he was wounded, he was beyond reason, angrily attacking the smaller boy.

Harry rushed over and tried to pull Ron back, but he was quickly knocked backwards. It took Vohkinne and Sikya to haul Ron off of the boy, who was whimpering and nursing his agitated wounds, as well as his new ones. He rolled over and coughed up some blood, shaking terribly.

Draco and Narcissa had watched with wide eyes, and as soon as Ron was dragged away, Narcissa hurried over to her nephew, who groaned and weakly tried to push her away.

"Why do you always do this, Falin?" she whispered angrily, dragging him to his feet.

"He attacked me-" the boy cried weakly in protest, his eyes wide. The scene was full of unfairness. His aunt was treating him as though he had thrown the first punch.

Hermione glared after the boy, hugging her arms. "And they wonder why he turned out so badly," she whispered. "They treat him worse than dirt. I can only imagine what life was like growing up with Bellatrix as a mother…"

"Yeah, well I wouldn't feel too sorry for him. Evil runs in the family." Harry wrapped his arm around her comfortingly, watching Ron stalk off into the darkness of the tunnel, his body shaking with angry sobs. "Ron… he's…"

"He's terribly upset. Rightfully so," Hermione pulled away from Harry, hurrying after him. "We haven't been paying him enough mind, he needs us. Come on." She looked upset as well. "All this time I thought he was just being a prat, he's really just been hurting, and trying to hide it…"

Harry and Hermione followed Ron into the dark tunnel, where they found him, a few feet in, sitting and hugging his knees, sobbing.

"Ron…" Hermione murmured, crouching down and putting a hand on his arm.

"Don't-" Ron ripped his arm away. "-don't want you to see me like this-" he said through his tears, turning away from them, trying to calm down.

Hermione didn't say another word, merely snuggled up against his back, her hands wrapped around his arm comfortingly. Harry slid down beside her, placing his hand on Ron's shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze. It had been a while since they had sat together like this, just the three of them. Too long.

Ron cried and leant against his friends for comfort, letting out all the stress that had been building up for weeks, and Hermione and Harry shed a few tears of their own.

**AN: Some of you may recognise Freakshow (Falin) as an OC from one of my other stories. A friend asked that I fit him into this story, and I liked the idea of it, so here he is. If you're curious, he's been in The Boy No One Knew, Evil Little Follower and Dark Paradise.**

**Who do you like best? Who do you think is in the most danger of dying? Can the Lawless Five be trusted? Can Freakshow and Narcissa be trusted? What do you think of Ron's behaviour? Who do you think will end up together?**

**AS ALWAYS IF YOU WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE CHARACTERS AND WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE, VISIT THE MIGHTY SLYTHERINS WIKI. (Link on profile)**


	16. Chapter 16

Because it was raining, the tunnel filled with water. They weren't able to sleep together in the center of the cave like usual, much to the relief of those who weren't comfortable with that arrangement. Instead, they split into groups of four and tucked themselves up into the little caverns in the upper walls of the cave.

The water never rose higher than midway up the exit tunnel, but it was unnerving nonetheless to see how high it got.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry made sure that they got a niche together. They needed some time to get back into the swing of things, though unfortunately they weren't completely alone. Though they loved Ginny, they would have loved to spend some time together alone. As it were, Ginny still didn't know who the hell they were, and wasn't very good company. She merely sat there, on one side of the small crevice, and they sat on the other, staring back.

Draco, Narcissa, and Tooantuh were in their own niche, and they were stuck with Freakshow who hadn't been welcomed anywhere else. He lay curled on his own, refusing to accept medical help from Tooantuh, or speak to any of them.

Neville was in a niche with Luna, Nakos, and Sikya. He had only joined them because of Luna. Sikya still creeped him out, and Nakos did as well by leaps and bounds. He was big. Very big, and he didn't smile much. He seemed fond of Luna. Excessively so. He had his arm about her almost always, and glared at Neville each time he tried to get near her.

Bravo, Captain, Chance and Hive had wanted a niche to themselves, but Degotoga didn't trust them alone together. He didn't want them to have time to formulate any plans, so he purposely spread them out.

Bravo was stuck with Nantan and Poloma, who he flirted with shamelessly, in vain. Captain got to stay with Setimika, Vohkinne and Degotoga, because she was a leader. Chance was with Numees, Hausis and Chu'mana. Hive got the pleasure of staying with Nahiossi and Abeque, both of which adored them and talked their ears off. They simply sat, and listened.

The night was long and cold, and the rain was loudly pounding against the stone. Each member of the Lawless Five huddled in their side of the niche, though it was impossible for them to completely get away from the others. They were forced to huddle with the members of the New Black World Tribe, for comfort and warmth, and not one of them liked it one bit.

The next morning, the water was high enough that they could all reach down as far as their arm could go and touch the surface of the water. Their cave was almost completely submerged, and if it had continued to rain that day, within the hour the water would be level with their subcaves.

"Now what?" Ron muttered, sitting with his legs hanging over and his boots skimming against the top of the water.

Hermione was hugging her arms, staring uncertainly down into the deep pool beneath them, spotting a few dark patches that moved in a suspicious way. "I don't think the water's safe. It looks like there's some kind of creatures swimming around down there," she whispered, looking up to note that the others seemed to have come to that conclusion as well.

Also noticing the creatures, Ron yelped and quickly withdrew his legs, hugging his knees and nervously watching a dark spot under the muddy water float by.

From where they sat in their little caves, they could see all the others. Neville and Luna's cave was lower than the rest, almost level with the tide, and they nervously backed away from the edge when a frightening fin broke the surface of the calm water, swimming right passed them.

Across the way, Neville was crouched, watching Freakshow with narrowed eyes. The boy was bent forward, his foot on the edge of the niche, his right hand above him holding himself so he didn't fall into the water. In his left hand was his wand, pointed at the creature in the water beneath him. Did he not realize that their magic no longer worked?

Neville's gaze flicked to Hermione, who sat at the edge of her niche, her brow furrowed. She had also spotted Freakshow with his wand, and was curiously watching what would happen if he attempted to use it.

To their surprise, light surrounded the tip of his wand, and a spell hit the water, and the creature under the surface turned tail and swam hurriedly away.

Shocked, Hermione's eyes turned quickly to Ron and Harry, who had also been watching.

"He's still got his magic? But how?" Harry hissed.

"He was Voldemort's little pet, my guess is he had some kind of VIP, major player ticket to the apocalypse or something." Ron gripped the rock face tighter, his eyes wide.

Gasping in terror the three scuttled backwards into the niche when Freakshows' black eyes suddenly snapped over to look at them.

"Blimey that bloke gives me the creeps." Ron whispered, clutching his chest tightly.

"Says the one beating the life out of him yesterday," Hermione muttered, still watching the niche cautiously. The boy had gone back inside and was no longer where they could see him.

"His face was pissing me off," Ron grumbled, crossing his arms and glaring at the wall grumpily.

Hermione turned back to them, looking thoughtful. "He's still got his magic… there's got to be a reason why he could just use a stinging hex on that sea creature and Draco almost dropped dead from using a stupefy."

"Yeah, the reason has a name," Ron began sourly. "it starts with a _V _and rhymes with _Moldy Wart."_

Harry snickered, and Hermione slapped his knee, sobering him. "Right, um. Sorry. This isn't a laughing matter."

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her gaze back to the niche. This time, it was Narcissa Malfoy who was standing at the edge, her head tipped upwards to try and spot how far they would have to climb in order to get out. It was a good fifteen, twenty feet, and the stone was rather smooth, it would be difficult if not impossible to climb out.

Without warning, the edge the woman stood on crumbled, she slipped, shrieked, and fell backwards into the red waters. Instantly she was surrounded by fins, and Draco's arm flew out of the niche, desperately reaching for his mother, who was screaming bloody murder, intermittently submerged by water and fins.

Tooantuh leant over the edge, grabbing Narcissa by the hair, which was all that was visible at this point, and tried to drag her out of the water. She was horrified to find that all that she got was a clump of bloody blonde hair.

Draco's eyes were wide and full of desperate horror. "NO! MOTHER, NO!" He shrieked, trying to dive into the water after her, but Tooantuh held him back. His hand was bashing desperately against the surface of the water, and he cried out in pain when something bit him, withdrawing his hand for a moment to note that a long, sharp, thin tooth was jutting out of both sides of his palm. Gagging on the nausea that he felt, he shook his hand desperately and the tooth displaced itself and he began desperately reaching for the water again. Tooantuh, afraid he might lose his whole hand next time, hauled him backwards away from the edge.

Surprising everyone else as they looked on in horror, Freakshow dove into the murky water, and quickly disappeared from sight. Draco stared after, panting heavily, blood trickling down his chin as all the movement agitated his internal wounds. He moaned in terrible pain, choking and coughing up blood, his face draining of color.

Everyone watched with bated breath as the distressed surface of the water calmed, and there was nothing but the sound of Draco's agonized, grieving wails. Nothing happened. There was silence and stillness.

And then, the surface of the water began to bubble, steam rising and filling the caves. A scaly, large nose burst from the water, and big, brown eyes flashed open. Jaws, large, very large, snapped at thin air as water and fish poured off of the giant head. A dragon, small for it's kind, but still terribly large. On top of the scaly head was Freakshow, who clung for dear life with one arm, the other wrapped around the waist of Narcissa who was unconscious and bleeding heavily, her clothing and one of her legs missing from the shin down.

"HOLY SHIT WHAT IS THAT THING?" Someone screamed, and instantly there was wild panic as the dragon panted and looked around, looking ready to spit fire. It roared and began clawing on the sides of the cave, causing rocks to come loose and fall down into the water with a splash.

Screaming and panic, and fire, as the dragon roared and filled the caves with heat and smoke.

Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ginny screamed and huddled towards the back of their niche, eyes wide as one of the large claws hooked onto the ledge, scraping only a foot away from Ron's leg as the dragon tried to climb out of the cave, because heaven knows how it got in there in the first place. Hermione's muddled mind could only assume that the beast had been living in a cave, and had been forced out by the flood waters.

"Quick, grab on!" Harry cried, lunging forward and grabbing the creature by the leg.

"No, Harry, NO!" Hermione cried, watching as the dragon's leg quickly pulled out and disappeared, Harry along with it.

Several of the others followed along, grabbing onto the dragon and letting it help them out of the trap they were in, since the cave was rattling and rocks were falling. Nothing to grab onto, Hermione and Ron raced to the edge, ready to jump, but Ginny hung back, terrified.

"Ginny, come on!" Ron cried, trying to drag her along, but she was rooted to the spot.

"Ron!" Hermione cried, reaching for him, but he wouldn't leave Ginny.

Hermione rushed over and helped him drag the screaming girl along, and together, they made to jump. Hermione slipped, the ledge crumbling beneath her and she hit the water hard, losing consciousness for a brief moment.

In all the chaos, she felt peace under the water. The screams overhead were muffled, the surface of the water from where she was gleamed bright orange from the dragon's breath.

Hermione's eyes landed on a dark shadow swimming above her. Its silhouette was very familiar, but her fuzzy mind couldn't decide what the creature was. After a moment, she noted that it was a Grindylow. A very large, horribly mutated Grindylow. It's teeth hung out of its mouth in a jagged way, and one eye was bigger than the other. The tentacles were several feet longer than usual, and its entire body was covered in spiky fins and a revolting black rot.

Suddenly feeling panicked, Hermione began to swim backwards away from the creature, not wanting to take her eyes off of it, but her movement was quickly spotted and the Grindylow shot towards her like a bullet, mouth opening wide, sharp teeth gleaming at her dangerously.

Her lungs screaming for air at this point, Hermione kicked at the creature's mouth and knocked a tooth in. Hermione's flailing hands felt something, and she found her hand on Captain's overly-large gun, floating at her shoulder. Scrambling for it and shooting it under the water, Hermione could hear what she could only describe as a 'pop', and the Grindylow was reduced to a bloody, ashy pulp, it's dusty remains floating to the surface of the water.

Hermione swam like mad for the tunnel, feeling herself getting lightheaded from lack of oxygen. pressing her face against the ceiling, where a small pocket of air allowed her a moment to catch her breath, and gasped in and out several times before taking a long breath, and going back under, pumping her legs like mad.

All at once, she was out of the cave, and able to get her head above the water in the gorge. She watched helplessly as the now swelled river swept her swiftly away down the gorge, and passed the action with the dragon. She coughed and watched helplessly as the large, shrieking dragon slowly became smaller and smaller in her vision, and soon she had no idea where she was.

Meanwhile, back at the chaos at the cave, screaming and shrieking could be heard as Freakshow dragged Narcissa away from the edge as the dragon swooped out of the hole, flapped its mighty wings and took off. Nakos and Setimika, who had failed to let go in time, screamed as they were taken along with it.

Nantan only just managed to duck before Nakos' ax hit the earth with a thud that was drowned out by all the screams.

Draco panted, choking on his blood and desperately crawling towards his mother, eyes wide at her missing foot.

Freakshow's eyes widened as the wound seemed to be rapidly infecting the rest of her leg. Grabbing the ax that Nakos had dropped and nearly decapitated Nantan with, he stood, and with all his might brought the sharp blade down just above Narcissa's knee, severing the bit of leg that was infected, and stopping it from going to the rest of her body.

Narcissa wailed in agony, turning over to vomit, and Draco did as well, the both of them heavily traumatized.

Tooantuh quickly crawled over, ripping the hem of Narcissa's coat and wrapping the wound on her leg as tightly as she could, her hands shaking from adrenaline.

Draco's wound in his hand was also infected, and the infection was spreading passed his wrist, trying to climb his arm, and seemed to be rapidly stretching upwards. He shrieked, trying to shake it off, and shrieked again when Freakshow brought the ax down heavily on his arm, chopping it off just above the infection above his wrist.

Vomiting again, and feeling vaguely like he might die right then and there, Draco turned his face away, wailing in agony while others screamed at the gory sight of his dead hand twitching and shriveling into a pile of bloody ash.

Freakshow was shaking so terribly that the ax slipped from his hands clumsily, he took two faltering steps before dropping to his knees, then slumping to the side, weak and feeling sick to his stomach.

Harry hurried over to Draco, grabbing his stump and holding it high above his heart, shakily wrapping it with his soaked shirt, having to use his teeth to tie it.

Nantan suddenly let out a piercing wail, pointing to the distance, where a swarm of zombies was slowly lumbering their way, drawn by the overwhelming scent of blood, undeterred by the masses of water swelling in the river below.

Mad panic broke out, and several of them began to run like mad in the opposite direction, abandoning the others who didn't have the strength to carry on of their own accord.

Ron and Ginny were still stuck down inside the cave, treading water and fearfully listening to the turmoil above their heads, trying to climb back into one of the subcaves that hadn't caved in.

Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he watched the others run for their lives, and he took Draco by the front of his shirt and began desperately dragging him along. Tooantuh dragged Narcissa, and Freakshow forced himself to his feet, grabbing the ax again and standing his ground.

"You can't fight them, you're too small!" Tooantuh cried out to him, stumbling.

"Just keep going, I've got this!" Freakshow screamed, taking a swing at the first zombie within reach, and its head went flying.

Harry watched with wide, terror-filled eyes, trying to drag Draco along, and stumbling every few steps. He watched as Freakshow slowly became overwhelmed by the zombies, and for a moment, he thought the boy was dead.

And then every zombie within a mile was blown off their feet, and sent flying in all directions, the source of the blow coming from Freakshow's glowing wand. His magic was still as strong as ever, in fact seemed thousands of times stronger than it should have been, almost as though all of the missing magic in others had transferred to him.

"Great," Harry whimpered, wondering if the boy realized this as well, and wondering what the boy could do with such power. The question, he reminded himself, was not what the boy _could _do with all that power… it was what the boy _would _do.

Tooantuh dropped back down, panting and hugging the unconscious Narcissa closely, her heart pounding madly. Were they safe?

Harry was wondering the same thing, his eyes locked on Freakshow who was still just standing there, his wand still surrounded by an aureole-like afterglow. Slowly, he pocketed his wand, and limped over to them, looking drained by all definitions of the word. "Come on, we need to get somewhere safer." He whispered, taking Draco's good arm, to help Harry drag him.

Tooantuh grunted and began dragging Narcissa along again, her eyes wild and full of fear. For a while the only sound was the two bodies being dragged between them, before they caught up with some of the people who had run away rather than fight.

Abeque, Captain, Bravo, and Hive, who were listlessly dragging their feet, looking exhausted.

"Cowards!" Freakshow growled at them, slumping down to take a break, Harry and Tooantuh doing the same.

"You're still alive?" Bravo cried, panting.

"No thanks to you," Harry snapped, holding Draco's head in his lap.

Draco was feverish, his eyes rolling around, sweat pouring from his brow, blood still dripping down his chin. Harry had a sudden horrible feeling that the boy wasn't going to survive.

"I had to fight them off myself you bastard! You could have at least made yourself useful and helped along someone who couldn't help themselves!" Freakshow shouted at Bravo.

"Stop being such a creep," Bravo rolled his eyes.

Freakshow leapt to his feet, his eyes blazing. "You need to stop being an insufferable twat, or I'm going to get a restraining order!"

"Pretty sure… those don't really hold any water anymore…" Bravo snickered.

"Yeah? Well you see this?" Freakshow held up the ax in a threatening manner, letting it drop against his shoulder. "This is my restraining order. Do we have an understanding?"

Freakshow showed surprising amounts of forbearance, considering only hours prior he had been bashing noses over petty ridicule. Unwilling to test his limits and lose an arm, Bravo shut his mouth and grumpily turned away.

"Look, we panicked, all right? We stick up for ourselves, it's how we stay alive. We're back together again, so why don't we stop arguing and just cooperate?" Captain soothed.

Freakshow's murky black eyes flicked to her. He scoffed, dropping his ax and turning back to Draco, carefully checking his wound over. He pulled out his wand, closed his eyes, and began healing it.

"He's got internal injuries as well… if there's anything you can do about them…" Harry whispered, not wanting to distract the boy, who slowly turned his wand to Draco's torso.

Harry gently ran his hand through Draco's hair, trying to keep the feverish boy calm.

Freakshow slowly shook his head, opening his eyes. "There's only so much I can do without healing potions." He murmured.

"Do you know any healing spells at all?" Harry asked hopefully, knowing that with all the magical power within the boy, there had to be some way he could stop the bleeding at least.

Freakshow nodded. "I healed him, but I can't replenish the blood he's lost." He turned to begin healing Narcissa's wounds.

"How is he doing that?" Tooantuh asked, and all the muggles were watching with wide eyes as the wounds scabbed over under Freakshow's wand.

"We're wizards," Harry murmured, seeing no reason to keep it a secret anymore. "I used to have magic, and so did Draco, Hermione, Neville, Ron, Luna, Ginny... all of us did. We lost it after the Apocalypse… but somehow… he hasn't."

"'Somehow' my arse. You know how I kept mine just as well as I do," Freakshow muttered.

Harry chewed on his lip for a moment, then nodded slowly. "But why?"

Freakshow hesitated. "The idea was for me to absorb the magic from everyone else, and to have enough power in the end to resurrect Voldemort if he died, and have the power to control the zombies… but it didn't really end up going as planned."

"Hold on, you're affiliated with whoever created those monsters?!" Captain cried.

Freakshow's eyes flicked to her. "Was," he corrected with a snarl.

Harry raised his eyebrows, unsure what to make of that statement. "You sure sounded like you still were affiliated with Voldemort yesterday."

"I just said all that to piss off Weasley," Freakshow said with a smirk.

Harry chewed on his lip, suddenly wondering where Ron, Neville, Hermione, Luna, and Ginny were. He knew they wouldn't have run and just left them behind. "He would have beat you to death if we hadn't stopped him."

Freakshow just scoffed at that, gently brushing Draco's hair back, feeling for headwounds. He had nothing else to say, so he remained silent.

"Now what?" Abeque asked softly, her lower lip trembling as she hugged her skinny legs.

"Good question," Freakshow whispered, raising his black eyes to meet Harry's tired gaze, sitting back on his heels and twisting his blood-covered hands together fretfully.

"I want to go back for them." Harry whispered.

Freakshow was silent as he continued to carefully heal the wounded. "You know we can't go back," he began quietly. "Those zombies… I only knocked them out. They're still there."

Harry nodded softly, exhausted, his ears ringing, his fingers gently brushing through Draco's hair as the boy tossed his head back and forth, whimpering in his unconscious state, still feverish.

"I know," he finally agreed, hoarse. "But I still want to." he looked longingly into the darkening distance. It was such a shame… a terrible, terrible shame that the cave they had made their home for such a short while was now gone. The peaceful home they had created for themselves was gone now, and there was no getting it back.

Before he knew it, Harry had fallen fast asleep, exhausted by the day.

...

Harry stood alone in the center of the courtyard, which served as a surrogate graveyard for the fallen students who would never be properly mourned. Harry panted softly, as if he had just finished the battle with Voldemort. All was silent, eerily so. He was the only living being to be seen. The faceless, nameless bodies seemed to close in on him, and he choked, spinning around to get away from them. But there, on the ground before him, was his dead, rotting arm.

Gasping in terror, his hand flew to his shoulder, where his wound was bleeding profusely. "No, no-" he whimpered, dropping down and fumbling for his arm, trying to shove it back into place. It reconnected, to his relief, but then… the rot in his arm began to spread to the rest of his body. He screamed. And then he woke up, panting, in a cold sweat.

"All right, Potter?" Draco whispered, his hand grasping Harry's arm tightly, his sad, bandaged stub resting softly on his malnourished chest, and his pretty eyes dimmed by all the suffering they had witnessed.

It was only then that Harry realized he had a death grip on Draco's uninjured wrist, which was probably why he'd woken the boy, who still looked vaguely ill, but his fever had broken. Taking in a shaky breath, Harry released Draco's arm and rolled away from him, shivering. "I'm fine. Just… had a nightmare, is all."

"What about?" Draco asked gently, wincing as he rolled onto his side to face the boy.

Harry took in another shuddering breath before rolling back over, facing Draco who looked genuinely worried. Sighing softly, Harry traced his finger against the ground, chewing on his lip. "I was back at Hogwarts," he began softly. "I saw my arm lying there on the ground, and… I tried to put it back on."

Draco cringed, looking grossed out. "You… tried to put it back on?" He groaned. "How did that go?"

"It was a dream, all right?" Harry gave the boy a smile and a shaky laugh, to assure him that he wasn't as rattled as he appeared. "Yes, I tried to put it back on. It didn't go well, it started turning me into a zombie."

"You mean… like the rot that had me and my mum?" he whispered, his eyes dropping suddenly, and his heavily bandaged arm pressed closer to his chest.

Harry chewed on his lip, nodding. "I'm… sorry you lost your hand, Draco," he whispered.

"Yeah well," the pale boy offered Harry a shaky grin, his eyes full of tears he refused to let go of. "Better than my whole bloody arm," he croaked, attempting a halfhearted jab at Harry's fully healed shoulder socket.

Harry gave the boy his best smile, and though it wavered, it gave Draco new strength.

The night air was thick with smoke and biting chill, and Harry found somewhere along the lines, he'd gotten so used to the stench of bones and rotting flesh that he'd stopped noticing it. The fondness with which Draco now looked at him was entirely new, however, and Harry thought both that he'd never get used to it, and that he oddly enjoyed the new way Draco looked at him. The childish need for protection that had been drilled into his mind ever since he had lost his arm was still there, somewhere in the back of his brain, and it subconsciously pushed him closer to the boy.

"Do you think they survived?" Harry whispered sadly, thinking of his friends who had been left behind.

Draco scoffed. "Don't fret Potter, I'm sure that they're alive and kicking, worried over your stupid arse." he muttered. "Needlessly, of course. This is what, your seventh defiance of Death? Do you enjoy knocking on his door and just… running like hell?"

"No, not really. I hate the feeling of hell on my heels, it always burns me." Harry joked, and felt his heart skip a beat at the genuine giggle he got from the Slytherin in response.

They lay there in companionable silence for a while, staring up at the red tinted darkness that was the sky. No stars could be seen, and only a sliver of the moon was visible.

"Do you think we can trust him?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Who?" Draco replied distantly, his thoughts suddenly surrounded by an unbearable longing for the comfortable life he had known as a small child.

"Freakshow. He's your cousin, right? Can we trust him?"

Draco slowly turned to look at Harry, his expression at first one of no comprehension, and then he nodded slowly. "His name is Falin, not Freakshow." he whispered, turning his eyes back to the starless sky. "And I believe we can. At least I want to believe we can. Remember when he was the only Slytherin in Dumbledore's Army?" He whispered with a smile. "I was as much an enemy with him in school as I was with you. I feel as though he was as much on Voldemort's side as Severus was…" His smile slowly faded thinking about the man. "Just keep an eye on him I suppose… not much else we can do, otherwise. We need him. He's the only one that's still got magic. My mother and I would be dead if it wasn't for him."

Harry nodded slowly. "Okay.."

They were silent again, and then Harry gave in to a whim, and tiredly pulled a startled Draco closer to him, closing his eyes and holding the boy close.

Draco just stared for a moment, before hesitantly resting his head on Harry's chest, and closing his eyes. He didn't think much of it, other than it was easier to breathe closer to Harry, and the biting chill in the air was more bearable now. So he fell asleep curled closely to the fellow amputee, his wounded arm tucked safely between them.

**AN: So I'm tired. Finally finished this chapter, but it still feels too rushed or something... I don't know. I don't like this chapter too much. Anyway. How do you think Draco will get on without his hand ? Who do you think is in the most danger of dying ? Do you think they'll all find each other again ? Can Falin aka Freakshow be trusted with that limitless magic ? Are Draco and Harry getting closer as friends, or closer as something else ? Please review.**

**As always, to read more about the characters, visit the Mighty Slytherins Wiki. (Link on my profile)**


	17. Chapter 17

The next morning, Harry woke to find that the members of The Lawless Five were no longer with them, probably long gone. He sat up quickly, startling Draco awake.

"What's wrong?" The blonde mumbled tiredly, going to rub at his eyes, and realising too late that his hand was gone. He accidentally punched himself in the eye with his stump.

Cursing at the godawful pain that shot through his arm, Draco sat up and shakily unwound the bandages from around his wrist, to find it a bloody, black mess.

"P-Potter, I think it's infected," he whimpered, feeling a little sick.

Harry shook Tooantuh and Falin awake, and the two moved hurriedly to Draco's side to inspect the wound. The teary-eyed Slytherin sat shaking as Falin tried to do something about the infection, before he sat back and shook his head. "There's nothing I can do about it, Draco. If we don't remove the infected part, it will spread and you could lose your whole arm, if it doesn't kill you first."

Draco couldn't help the small sob that broke free, and he reached around blindly with his left hand, found Harry's right, and held tightly. "H-how much do you have to take off?"

Falin inspected his arm again carefully, measuring how far the infection had already spread, and he indicated from the point where Draco's wrist already was severed, all the way up to his elbow, and Draco let out a distressed sound.

"If we don't do it now, you'll lose your arm or a lot more, Draco." Falin told him softly.

Draco just nodded weakly and lay back, carefully stretching out his arm, looking up at Falin with reluctant trust in his fearful blue eyes.

"I'll stun you, so you don't feel it." Falin whispered, and Draco just nodded again, chomping down hard on his lip. Falin sighed and whispered "Somnus," and Draco's eyes closed, and his tense body relaxed.

Falin looked grim, clutching his wand tightly in his left hand, and Draco's arm in his right. Taking a deep breath and holding it, he whispered a spell and carefully placed the tip of his wand to the area on Draco's skin where he needed to cut, and carefully pushed downward.

Harry flinched and turned away when Draco's skin split all the way through the bone, and to the other side. Falin quickly cast a spell to clean and cauterise the new wound, and conjured clean cloth to dress it, letting out the breath he'd been holding.

He mumbled something about checking on Narcissa's leg, which hadn't become infected in the night like Draco's arm had. After a short while, he looked around, his brow furrowed.

"Where's Bravo, Captain, and Hive?"

"Where do you think," Harry muttered, looking through his pack to find that the supplies he'd had were gone. "They stole our food and left us here on our own." He threw the empty bag in frustration.

Tooantuh sat down heavily, holding her head in her hands. "What are we going to do?" She whispered, looking lost and alone.

Harry reached over and took her hand, smiling tiredly. "We'll make it. We've made it this far, haven't we?"

She nodded, her dark eyes wide and fearful. "But never alone. I've always had so many capable and strong, able-bodied friends to keep me safe. Now it's just me, two children, and three amputees!" She buried her face into her hands, shaking. Abeque moved over to sit by her, looking just as scared.

"I'm not a child!" Falin snapped. "I'm eighteen, same as Harry and Draco." He crossed his thin arms moodily.

Tooantuh looked up at him, startled. "But you look-"

"Prepubescent? I know, thanks." Falin muttered, snatching his wand and standing.

"Wait, where are you going?" Harry cried, snagging Falin's wrist and momentarily catching sight of a horrible scar on the boy's left palm before he pulled free of Harry's grasp. "We can't afford to lose you too! Please, please, don't leave us here to die, we won't survive without you!" Harry pleaded, still trying weakly to grab the boy to keep him from leaving.

Falin continued to reluctantly evade Harry's desperate hand, looking anywhere but him. "I'm sorry Potter…" he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "Harry," he amended. "But I have to find out what went wrong with the curse, and why I can't control the zombies. Once I know that, I'll know how to fix it, and I can stop them from killing what's left of the world."

Harry had finally caught hold of Falin's tattered pantleg, and Falin didn't shake him off this time. He looked up at the boy sadly. "Can't you do that from here? Where do you have to go in order to learn that?"

"I have to go to the heart of their territory. I can't bring you with me, you'll slow me down or get yourselves killed. It's safer for you to be on your own."

Harry only tightened his hold on Falin's trousers. "Can you please at least… go with us until we're less out in the open, somewhere we can protect ourselves if necessary? We're sitting ducks out here."

Falin sighed, nodding. "I will apparate you to a survivor camp that I encountered earlier. You'll be safe there." He murmured, taking Abeque's hand, and then Tooantuh's, telling them to join hands with the others. Confused, Tooantuh took Harry's hand, and Abeque took Narcissa's, and Narcissa took Draco's, and in a swirling flash, Falin had apparated them out of the open desert, and into the quiet shade of a grove of healthy trees. Abeque vomited, and Tooantuh looked vaguely ill.

Harry looked around in quiet horror, tightening his hold on Tooantuh's hand. "Falin, we can't be here, it's Crow's camp, it's not safe-" Harry jumped, startled when they were immediately surrounded by masked humans.

Crow, recognisable to Harry by the crowfeathers sewn into his clothing, pushed back his mask, his eyes dark with a hatred Harry hadn't seen in a long while. "Dragon and friends so good of you to stop by. Where's Hermes and the others? I do hope they haven't passed on." The pleasantness behind his voice was sugary and fake, and it made Harry's skin crawl.

"Crow, where is my mother?" Falin asked, and Crow's eyes snapped to the boy.

Crow recoiled upon seeing him, his cruel smile quickly vanishing to be replaced by terror. "O-oh, My Lord, forgive me for not recognising you…" He whispered, stuttering.

"These people are my friends. See to it that they are well cared for. If I return to find them in poor health, you and your men will answer to me." Falin told the man calmly.

Crow nodded mutely, signalling for his men to tend to Draco and Narcissa.

Harry pulled Abeque closer to him, protective of the little girl, knowing what one of Crow's men had done to Hermione.

The lot of them headed further into Crow's camp, and Harry felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach at the familiar sights, his anxiety levels reaching a new high.

Bellatrix was in the middle of camp, braiding the hair of a little girl around Abeque's age. The little girl's eyes lit up when she saw Falin, and she stood and raced to him with arms open wide, smiling from ear-to-ear, long black hair flowing behind her. Falin caught her up in his arms with a smile, hugging her tight. "Hi Harri," he purred affectionately, and Harry was startled and confused by the name.

"Harri, this is Scarhead," Falin indicated Harry, who bristled at the nickname, "our cousin Dragon," he pointed to Draco who was still unconscious, "our aunt Tags," he pointed to Narcissa, who was pale and drawn, her shaking hands feeling of her stump of a leg, "healer Tooantuh," he waved his hand to the woman who smiled at the little girl, "and our friend Abeque." He patted Abeque's blonde head, and the little girls waved to each other.

Crow was off sulking by the fire, and he looked doubly pissy when Bellatrix stood and came over, looking cheerful. Her smile dropped when she saw Draco and Narcissa. "Cissy!" She cried, rushing to her little sister. "I thought you died?!" She sounded confused, then paled when she saw Narcissa's missing leg, then paled further at Draco's missing hand.

"Bella?" Narcissa said tiredly, worried that her psychotic sister would do something rash, but Bellatrix only hugged her sister and fretted over her nephew.

Narcissa looked at Falin questioningly.

"I changed her memories," Falin explained softly.

"My Lord!" Bellatrix exclaimed upon seeing her son. She was timid around Falin in the same way she had been around Voldemort.

"Mum, remember, I said you don't have to call me that," Falin murmured awkwardly, hugging his mother who fussed over his messy hair and bruised face. He looked at the beautiful woman with such misery that Harry thought he could literally feel the boy's heartbreak. His mother was probably showing him more affection right now than she ever had in his life.

Falin squirmed away from her, his hands shaking a bit as he twisted his wand fretfully in his grasp. "I'll be back to check on you," he promised, meeting Harry's gaze.

Harry stared for a moment before dipping his head, praying that Crow feared Falin's wrath enough that he would not harm them.

In a swirl of smoke, Falin disapparated, leaving them alone in the heart of what Harry considered enemy territory.

...

Meanwhile, Captain, Bravo, and Hive were marching at a desultory pace across dry, cracked earth.

"Blimey, the lot of them were bloody cavemen," Bravo panted. "Who'd of thought the end of the world would take people back to the start of it. Devolution, right?"

Hive's golden eyes were sad, and the lanky human trudged listlessly after their clanmates. They stopped, not for the first time, so they could look longingly over their shoulder, hopeful to see Abeque, Freakshow ,and the others hurrying to catch up. But ever since the group had first dropped out of sight, nothing but empty sky and desert earth could be seen.

Hive turned sharply when they heard Captain and Bravo let out terrified squeaks, and their eyes widened when they spotted Freakshow, suddenly right in front of them, his black eyes glowing with hatred, his little hand clutching his magic stick so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"You are lowly pigs, and the most vile scum to ever walk the earth!" he spat at them. "You left us to die, _again!" _

"Freakie, we told you we look after ourselves, we're not associated with those people, besides, I don't expect any of them will survive very long with those kinds of injuries." Captain soothed. She yelped and stumbled back when Falin sucker-punched her, and Hive held out their long arms to catch her before she could hit the ground.

Suddenly furious and nursing a bleeding nose, Captain threw Hive's arms away, and launched herself at Falin with a snarl, who tucked his wand into his sleeve, and threw up his arms to block her angry swings.

Bravo was howling now, eager to see how this fight would go. It had been a long time coming, because the two butted heads when Freakshow constantly undermined Captain's authority.

Freakshow wasn't the kind of boy who held back in a fight just because his opponent was a girl, and he was fierce despite the fact that he was a good head shorter than her. He gave it his all, kicked and punched until Captain stumbled back, defeated and wounded.

Bravo's jaw hung open at the result; feisty, powerful little Captain crawling away nursing a bloody face and a twisted wrist, and tiny, skinny little Freakshow standing tall and proud, eyes still overflowing with anger.

"I considered tracking you down and killing you," Freakshow told them, snarling, "but I've got a much better idea." He grabbed Captain's wounded wrist without remorse at the sound of her cry of pain, and he took Bravo's wrist as well, and in a flash they were gone, leaving Hive alone, and ready to panic.

Falin left Bravo and Captain deep in the heart of the darkest, slimiest, most dangerous cave he could find, and condemned Hive to walk alone in the desert until they found shelter in Crow's forest, a day's journey from where they now stood.

...

Back at Crow's camp, Harry noted that Crow must have ordered his men to stay well away from the newcomers, because they were left to their own devices. The only person who bothered to sit with them now was Bellatrix, who talked nonstop as she braided Narcissa's hair, and then Abeque's.

Narcissa listened to her sister chatter with unease, shocked when she learned that Bellatrix was pregnant.

Harry watched the way Bellatrix fawned over little Harri, and he wondered about it so much that he couldn't help but ask, feeling uncomfortable and awkward speaking to Bellatrix in a civil manner.

"Um… Bells…" he began, suddenly unsure how to continue now that the woman's dark eyes, so like her son's, were staring at him expectantly.

"Yes Scarhead?" She prompted after he'd been silent for a long moment, and he cringed at her polite usage of the nickname Draco and Falin had given him in spite.

"Harri, she's your daughter?" He asked, fiddling with the moccasins that Nahiossi had made for him. He felt his chest tighten thinking of the old woman. He wondered if she had survived, and his hands felt of the beautiful shirt she had made, now torn and ruined. He'd lost the headdress a while back, and though he had found it silly, he mourned the love that had gone into making it for him.

Bellatrix nodded with a smile, reaching out for Harri who moved over to cuddle with her mother.

Harry furrowed his brow. "Her name is really Harri?" He didn't want to pry until the psychotic woman suddenly remembered that she was psychotic, but he was curious how the hell a child of Bellatrix' had been named "Harri".

"And is Severus Snape her father as well?" He asked softly, terribly curious. This little girl was rather young. She couldn't be more than six, which meant Snape and Bellatrix had-had relations as recently as 1991. Harry shuddered at the thought.

Bellatrix nodded, looking somber. "I do wonder what happened to the good professor," she purred, stroking Harri's fine black hair lovingly.

"He's passed on, I'm afraid." Harry told her softly.

Bellatrix paused, frowning. "Sorry to hear that." She sighed, and Harry believed she truly meant it.

He sighed softly, going back to drawing lines in the dirt.

**...**

Meanwhile, miles away from Crow's camp, Hermione was crawling out onto a riverbank, coughing up the water she's unintentionally swallowed when she'd been tossed around by the rough current. She dragged herself to her feet, looking around in fear at her surroundings. She felt so alone, and there was nothing in the world she wanted more than her friends.

She was at least relieved to see that the area she'd been washed up in was still very green and alive. Her heart leapt into her throat when she felt something brush her leg, and she jumped forward, clutching her chest in terror. She let out a relieved laugh when she realised it was only a dog. A skinny, scruffy dog who looked at her with big, sad eyes.

"Hey there," she murmured, reaching out her hand carefully, and the dog went right to her, wagging her tail timidly. Hermione scratched the dog's ears, glad she was no longer completely alone. Still though, the dead silence was starting to get to her. She didn't know what else to do, so she stood back up, and started exploring. She felt a small bit of warmth in her chest when the dog hurried to keep up with her, seemingly not wanting to be alone either.

**AN: I am so soo sooo sorry about how long it's been since I updated ! I lost all inspiration for a while there. HOpefully I can start updating again, but no promises. Please let me know what you think.**

**As always, check out The Mighty Slytherin Wiki if you want to see what the characters look like, or read more about them. Please review !**


	18. Chapter 18

Hermione was no longer aware of the passing of time. One moment, she would be searching the little green glen for food, sitting quietly with the dog, or staring at the sky, and the next, she would be waking up wondering when she'd ever fallen asleep.

Hermione had to say she felt considerably safer here than she had felt in a long time. Even when she had been in the cave for the first time, with all the friendly faces. This felt different. The glen was completely untouched by the decay. The big scruffy dog was nothing but friendly and helpful, and the air was fresh and clean. If she didn't look to the west, she could completely ignore the fact that the world was ending. Because in this tiny patch of green, she'd found peace.

But her thoughts were so clouded that most days felt only a few hours or less. She didn't think about anything, just sat in a daze and took care of her needs in auto pilot.

It suddenly struck her one morning, that she had no idea if any of her friends were still alive. And it suddenly drove her crazy not knowing. She didn't understand the fog in her brain, and why it was preventing her from being the Hermione she knew she was. Why hadn't she been worrying about her friends this whole time? Even that thought eventually faded into the abyss her head had become.

It eventually dawned on her that she might have sustained a head injury that was preventing her from thinking clearly. But the more she thought about it, the less sense it made. No, it was far more likely that she was in shock. Her mind had shut down due to some kind of psychological trauma. What she didn't know, was how she had survived a war, an apocalypse, a rape, and a dragon, but it was _this _that caused her to have a mental breakdown.

She knew it hadn't been the dragon. Or had it? No. Not the dragon. Almost drowning? The Grindylow? Probably not. Being completely separated from all of her friends? Isolation? _Aloneness? _

Perhaps... perhaps all these things, as one great mass of horrors, clogging her brain.

All she had been was lonely, and it was all she felt. She couldn't make herself feel anything else. She wasn't sad, and she most definitely wasn't happy.

Nothing felt even remotely real anymore. And she didn't know where to begin to change that. She could survive here, quite easily, for the rest of her life. The natural resources that the earth provided were more than enough to sustain her, and her body and mind were weary enough to make it tempting. But she knew she would never feel as though surviving was worth it, if she had no one to survive with.

With drooping shoulders, Hermione turned her eyes westward. Her fragile mind observed the red clouds that devoured the sky, the evil blackness that blanketed the earth, and she felt afraid. She allowed herself to feel the crushing terror that she had not permitted herself to feel all this time.

Suddenly, the dog nudged her shoulder, and broke her from the intense thoughts that were plaguing her brain. With an exhausted smile, Hermione scratched him behind the ear. "At least I have you?" She whispered, on the verge of tears. She couldn't help but feel relieved, knowing that her sadness and fear were signs that she hadn't completely lost herself.

The dog wagged his tail and licked her tears away. With sudden determination, Hermione pulled herself to her feet, packed up as much food as she could carry, and began walking.

The dog followed her, a faithful companion for the past month Hermione had been there. Only the dog knew how long it had taken Hermione's subconscious to recuperate. Only the dog would remember the peaceful little haven after it had long washed itself from Hermione's memory.

…

Meanwhile, back at Crow's camp, Harry could feel a subtle change attempting to make itself known. It was there, just beyond his understanding, but he could sense it coming. An entire month of silence. And now out of nowhere for the past three days, he remained in a constant state of paranoia, keeping Abeque and Draco close to him, and keeping eyes on Tooantuh and Narcissa at all times.

What was coming? Harry couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something definitely _was _coming. And though he wasn't sure if it was dangerous, he couldn't help the dread that had taken hold of him from the very first moment he had a feeling something was wrong.

And then it came. The sign he had been waiting for. It pierced through him like electricity, and he hit the ground in pain.

His scar was burning. His entire head felt as though ready to implode from the amount of pressure suddenly on his skull.

His agonised screams brought curious survivors from Crow's camp closer, the same ones who had been avoiding the newcomers all month.

"Potter? Potter, what's wrong?" Draco tried desperately to help, but there was nothing he could do to relieve the sharp, evil pain in Harry's head as the boy thrashed around in an attempt to eject the pain from his body.

After a miserable forty-eight seconds, Harry's cries died down and he was reduced to a panting heap, still groaning and clutching his head as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"You're bleeding!" Draco exclaimed after a long bout of silence. At his words, Harry raised his trembling hand away from his scar, and noted that it was indeed covered in blood.

Helpless until now, Tooantuh took the chance to slide closer to Harry and gently inspect his head.

"Merlin," Draco whispered, leaning closer. "Your scar's opened up! Has that ever happened before?"

Harry, who was still biting back the dull pain that throbbed through his skull, only managed a weak shake of his head.

Tooantuh took a bit of clean-ish cloth that had been handed to her by Bellatrix, and carefully placed it over Harry's scar. This caused him to yelp, and began trembling again. Eventually he passed out entirely from the pain and grew still.

This sent chills of terror down Draco's spine, and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He and his mother shared a look, before Draco stood and turned a full, slow circle, looking for anything on the horizon that could indicate why Harry would have had this sudden, bizarre episode.

"His scar… it's linked to- _him," _he knew his mother knew who '_him' _was, "but if _he's _really dead…" He trailed off, leaving room for the imagination to run wild.

Horror passed over Narcissa's face, and she clung to herself, looking around as though Voldemort would suddenly appear before them.

"He's waking up," Tooantuh interrupted, and Draco hurriedly crouched back down beside him.

"Potter, what is it? You know- don't you?" He clutched at Harry's shirt, eyes desperate. "He's not back, is he?"

Harry shook his head, managing to sit up and wipe up the blood that was dripping from his nose. "I have no idea."

This did nothing to pacify Draco, who was near ready to have a panic attack; his mother was in no better state.

Standing and shakily picking at the bandage around his right elbow, where the rest of his arm no longer existed, Draco exclaimed, "He's dead! He's got to be!"

"He is," a voice informed them, and everyone turned to see that the voice belonged to Falin, who was marching through the thick underbrush towards them. Harry's scar throbbed with every step closer the boy took, and Harry recoiled from the alarming agony. Once Falin was standing directly in front of them, Harry felt his head might explode. He stared up at Falin with watery eyes, confusion and pain written clearly on his face as blood drained down over his expression.

"Sorry about that," Falin offered meekly, indicating Harry's head. "Not much to be done for it, I'm afraid. The seal's broken."

"'The seal'?" Narcissa questioned timidly, holding little Abeque closely.

Falin nodded sombrely, clutching his wand tightly and shifting his weight to his left leg. He took another step forward, only to fall to his knees. Exhaustion suddenly made itself known, and Draco put a steadying hand on his cousin's shoulder. "All right?"

"No," Falin croaked, reaching out to grab a handful of Draco's shirt, his eyes wide. "The seal…" he whispered with such cryptic desperation, then shook himself out of it, as though he'd been in some kind of trance.

"Stop!" Harry hissed at him, his body convulsing as he felt more blood begin to pool from his scar.

"We're all dead anyway!" Falin shrieked, throwing Draco's hand off of his shoulder and rising doggedly to his feet. "Couldn't stop it-" he mumbled, stumbling away from them.

Harry drooped, gasping in relief, pain ebbing away with each step Falin took in the opposite direction.

"What the hell is going on with you two!?" Tooantuh cried, standing up and looking back and forth between Harry and Falin. "Why are you acting like this?"

Draco had the same questions, his eyes firmly on Falin who was wandering around aimlessly, bumping into trees, his eyes glassy, his movements manic and rigid.

Harry was mumbling quietly to himself, holding his head while alarming amounts of blood continued to leak from his scar like a sieve.

"I am _freaking out, _why are they acting like this?!" Tooantuh hissed, grabbing Draco's sleeve, but he could only shake his head, just as baffled and alarmed as she was.

"Oh I don't know, deary, just the bloody end of the world!" Falin cried, throwing his arms up and letting out a loud, humourless laugh.

"You mean the zombies?" Draco clarified, confused.

"No, I mean judgement day. Floods, purifying flames, everything but the kitchen sink! The whole nine yards! Are you ready for that Malfoy, because I'm not!" He jammed his thumb against his chest, his eyes angry. "Fuck!" He turned away from them, pulling at his hair and breathing raggedly.

"My god…" Tooantuh whispered, clutching at Draco's arm.

"Are you sure…?" Was all Draco could manage around the sudden explosion of information soaring through his brain.

Falin let out a hysterical laugh at that, babbling something about how stupid the question was before slumping against a tree, shaking his head.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Draco stood and looked around, his head swarming with questions and concerns, but he found himself unable to grasp the concept entirely. "But I don't believe in God?" He sounded as though he were asking a question.

Falin scoffed at that, suddenly angry again. "Good for you, Draco! You think God is offended by that? Think He'll withhold his wrath because _Draco the Great_ doesn't believe in Him? Good bloody-fucking-well for you!"

"Just calm down, all right? I'm not convinced that anything else is going to happen, the world is already good as over, what more could happen?" Draco was now just as angry, displeased by the fact that Falin's fanatics were frightening everyone, perhaps needlessly. "You went to go and stop the zombies, tell me what happened, why are you suddenly convinced 'God' is going to come do worse than He's already let happen!?"

Falin just grumbled at that, dropping down into the dirt and leaning against a tree. Slowly, very slowly, he calmed down. "I'm tired," he whimpered, covering his face in his hands. "So bloody tired…"

Fed up, Draco got down on his knees in front of the small boy and took him firmly by the shoulder, shaking him. "Look at me, Falin! Hey! Look! We're all tired, all right? But you need to tell me what happened! What made you come to this conclusion, huh?"

Falin was unable to make eye contact, merely shaking his head and allowing himself to be jerked around by Draco's incessant shaking.

"Are we going to die?" Abeque asked fearfully, clinging to Narcissa.

"No one is going to die. We're safe here," Draco assured her, intent on keeping that promise. He cast Falin one last glare before crouching back down by Harry. "All right?"

"Brilliant," Harry shot back sarcastically. Having stopped the flow of blood, he was no longer in danger of bleeding out, but was still, quite literally, drained.

"Are you dizzy?" Draco asked, helping him lay back.

"A little." Harry cringed and closed his eyes, finally relaxing.

"Do you think there's any truth to what he's saying?" Draco had to ask, carefully helping Tooantuh wrap a bandage around Harry's head.

Harry was quiet for a moment, thinking. "There has to be some truth to it… _something _is coming. I can feel it. My scar has never behaved in this way before, I don't know what could cause it to do that other than something big… and bad."

Draco felt the pit in his stomach grow all the more. The past month had been calm, if not peaceful. Everyone was still on edge from the terrible happenings they had all been through, but everything had been fine. Everyone ate well, slept well, and recuperated.

Two days after they first arrived, Hive had stumbled into camp, dehydrated and sick from the elements. Because Falin had made no special threats in favour of their safety, Crow's men had attacked them the moment they'd stepped foot in the camp, and no one was sure if they had been killed, or where they were if they hadn't.

Otherwise, Crow had provided Harry and the others with food, medicine, and shelter and the month had gone by in a blur. Draco didn't think he could handle it if that was ripped out from under him, _again._

"What should we do?" He finally asked.

Harry was only able to shrug. "Wait for it to happen."

The two locked eyes; a pair of exhausted green and a pair of frightened silver.

Draco ran his trembling hand through his hair, his eyes searching the ground frantically. "I… I don't want to die?" It sounded more like a question than a statement.

Harry reached for Draco's hand and held it tight. "Me either."

Feeling a little awkward, Draco squeezed Harry's hand before pulling away to go and sit with his mother, who fussed over his hair, kissed his face, and held him close. Harry watched with a sudden sadness, which came often when he thought of his own mother. Or Missus Weasley, more recently. The dear woman…

Ron.

Hermione.

Neville.

Luna.

Harry closed his eyes and felt his heart break all over again, as names continued to bounce around his head.

Were they dead? Would he ever know? With a quick, sharp intake of breath, Harry sat up straighter and looked over at Falin who looked as though he'd fallen asleep. Harry wanted nothing more than to wake him and ask - no, _demand - _that he go and find his friends. But, knowing that the boy had spent the past month doing God-knows-what, trying to save all their arses, he was more inclined to let him sleep.

Truly, he showed signs of having had a rough four weeks. Harry noticed that in the time he had been gone, Falin had lost the tie that had still been around his neck, the last shreds of his robes had fallen away, his trousers had been ripped in the knees, all the buttons to his vest were gone, and his dress shirt (once white, now sporting every shade of filth) was missing a sleeve. His hair was filthy and the ends were singed and burned away. His lip was bloody and bruised along with nearly every inch of the rest of his face; his bare arm had a deep, infected wound and countless bruises and burns. His knuckles were swollen and every shade of purple, and there was dried blood caked in with the soot on his scalp.

And he was the most powerful wizard known to man.

He had the magic of every wizard alive contained in his tiny body, and he looked as though he had taken a stroll through the bowels of hell and barely escaped with his hide.

With a disconcerted feeling in his stomach, Harry slumped back down to his earlier position, clutching his aching head and mourning the friends he wasn't sure were even dead yet. Yet. Yet? Such a morbid thought. Yet. Implying that if they weren't dead, they soon could be.

At any moment, at any time… any of them could die. All it would take would be the strong scent of human blood to draw the zombies to their location and wipe them all out. Then again… Harry opened his eyes again, looking around at the untouched greenery that surrounded them.

Why had the zombies not come here yet? It was almost as though this place was protected somehow. Because Harry knew that on all sides of this little green forest was nothing but desert and decay. This small patch of woods was completely untouched, there were even animals living here. Harry had seen a few rabbits, squirrels and even a dear. He could hear birds in the trees.

There was no other explanation for it, other than someone had specifically protected this one patch of land, very specifically, _this _patch of land. With a fresh water source, and naturally growing food that wouldn't run out if it was properly cared for and rationed. So... _convenient. _

With sudden determination, Harry sat back up and slid closer to Falin, wincing as every inch closer caused more pain to shoot through his skull, and more determination to shoot through his brain. "Wake up!" He stopped as close as he could physically bear, reaching out with the toe of his moccasin to poke Falin in the ribs.

The boy shot up, startled awake, wand drawn defensively before he realised it was only Harry. "Cor blimey, Potter!" he hissed, putting his wand away and clutching his ribs (where Harry had kicked him) in pain. "Damn you! I'm exhausted, let me sleep!"

"Proximity with you makes my scar feel as though it's on fire," Harry accused.

With a condescending smile, Falin sat up straighter and said, "Then logic would suggest that you go and sit back over there, and let me sleep."

Harry smiled back thinly, shaking his head. "Tell me why. My scar has only ever hurt because of Voldemort. Why do you make it hurt? It wasn't bad enough to notice when we first met, or even when you and the Lawless Five came into camp, but now, it's stronger than I've ever felt it. Why?"

Falin dusted off his trousers to gain time before he replied. "...you're not the only one who's had a piece of Voldemort's soul imbedded into your own."

His words made Harry's stomach drop like a bag of cement. "...what?" He breathed, unable to believe it.

Falin merely nodded, pushing his sleeve back to show the horrendous scar on his left wrist. "Not as fancy as your own. I'm afraid it's rather difficult to force a piece of your soul into a living thing. With you, it was an accident. With me… well it was like threading a needle with yarn." He sighed wearily and yanked his sleeve back down, hugging his arms.

"How long have you been a horcrux?" Harry asked nervously.

"Since I was born." Falin dug the toe of his boot into the ground, his shoulders stiff, his dark eyes battling years of anger. "It's the only reason I was born, you know."

Harry's eyes flicked over to little Harri, who was sitting in her mother's lap, talking joyfully about a pretty little flower she had found.

Falin caught Harry's line of sight, and he bristled, suddenly defensive. "Don't fucking touch her, you'll regret it," he hissed, his wand suddenly in his hand again.

"Is she-?" Harry breathed, unable to tear his eyes off the sweet little girl now that the thought was in his head.

"All of us are," Falin murmured, resentment shining strongly through his bitter voice. "Bellatrix and Severus; Voldemort's two most faithful servants, ordered to produce an heir. They had four, because the first two evidently were not good enough. Their oldest, Mirianda, me, my little sister Illumine, and Haridelle."

"Shit," Harry whispered, suddenly realising that there were now four horcruxes that he hadn't accounted for. "Does that mean he's still alive?"

Falin shrugged. "In a way. Harri and I are the only two still alive …" He trailed off, looking as though he might cry thinking about his two dead sisters. "But…" his voice wavered a little before he cleared his throat and kept on talking. "Voldemort can't come back. He's destroyed his soul too many times, he… quite frankly he doesn't exist anymore, save for the evil that he shared with us." He nodded to his little sister. "More with me… than with her. Part of him lives on with us. I'm looking for a way to destroy it without killing Harri… if I didn't have her to worry about, I'd just kill myself and be done with it..."

Harry was silent for a moment, thinking. "When I died… I was given a choice to come back."

Falin scoffed at that, casting Harry a sideways glance. "The laws of the universe don't typically apply to you, Potter. The same can't be said for the common folk like us. Thanks for the tip, though."

Harry sighed, feeling the strong resentment Falin had for him, and it was far stronger than the intense pain that continued to throb through his head.

"If you didn't exist, I'd never have been born, you know that?" Falin continued softly, bitterly. "Why did you have to exist…"

"It's not my fault!" Harry blurted out, shocked by the accusation in Falin's tone.

"As if that changes anything," Falin muttered, tracing his finger over the terrible scar in his wrist, "I didn't ask to be be born, and neither did you. Both of us have been used and abused from the day we came into this world."

The two sat in relative silence, Harry slowly becoming accustomed to the dizzying pain brought on by closeness to Falin.

"Your mother called you 'my lord'..." Harry murmured eventually, breaking the silence.

"One of the many names she's called me in my life, not one of my favourites, either." Falin laid back down, drooping from exhaustion, looking as though he could barely keep his eyes open. "I'll look for your friends tomorrow, Potter, and I'll explain everything else, and whatever the hell you want, just go away. Anything, really, I promise. Please. Let me sleep."

Harry obliged, sliding away until the pain in his head was nothing more than a dull throbbing. He still had more questions, but he decided that letting Falin rest was acceptable, mostly because he needed him to be able to actually look for Ron and Hermione and the others in the morning. Something told him, however, that it would take more than a night's sleep for Falin to recover from everything he had lived through.

…

Meanwhile; Ron, Ginny, Nantan, and Chance had been surviving in the old cave the past month. It had taken a week for it to drain completely, and during that time, the four of them had been sleeping in the upper chambers, which they had been able to climb down into after the dragon had collapsed most of the steep walls.

"Doesn't feel safe," Ron murmured, tossing another stick into the fire he'd created. Ginny stuck close to him, shivering.

"Hasn't felt _safe _for a long time now," Chance muttered in agreement, hugging her arms and shifting closer to Nantan.

"Do you think we're the only ones still alive?" Nantan asked in a small voice, looking to Ron with wide eyes.

"Doubt it," Ron replied, stoking the fire. "Harry's basically immortal. Freakshow has got more power than I've ever seen from any wizard. I doubt he's going to die any time soon."

"What about Draco?" Moaning Myrtle, who had been coming to visit them occasionally, suddenly butted in with a pout. Over the past month, it was rare for her to come out from hiding in the depths of the cave. The dragon had put her in a particularly foul mood, and some nights, she delighted in keeping them all awake with her pitiful wailing.

Ron shrugged, annoyed by her presence. "Harry 'owes' him, or whatever, so he probably wouldn't let anything happen to him. And he's Freakshow's cousin, so I doubt _he'd_ let anything happen to him either. The bastard's got more protection than any of us."

"And Hermione?" Nantan asked softly, shivering and sliding closer to the fire.

Ron felt his chest tighten, and he looked up to the sky. The stars couldn't be seen through the thick, reddish-black smog that covered it, but somehow, he could feel her looking at the same sky, somewhere, at the same time. "She's… she's brave, Hermione… she's strong, and smart. She's fine. I'm sure she's fine."

"I wonder what happened to Captain, and Hive, and Bravo, and Tags…." Chance tucked her head into her arms, shivering. "I haven't been separated from them for this long before. We've been traveling together ever since this whole bloody mess started."

Nantan patted Chance's back comfortingly, but Ron only rolled his eyes. "Which one do you think died first? My money's on Bravo, the git."

This only made Chance start to cry.

"Nice going, twat." Insults such as this were uncharacteristic of Nantan, who was normally far more polite. But living in such poor conditions for so long had put all of them in a perpetually unfavourable mood.

Ron scoffed, shameless. After a moment of listening, he relented, allowing himself to feel the guilt. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't say that. I've lost people too… I'd be upset… I'd be angry if someone said something like that. I'm sorry."

Chance looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, but said nothing.

The four of them (minus Myrtle, who had gone back to her cave) sat in silence, moving closer to absorb each other's body heat. The night was cold. The shadows were frightening. The sounds… Ron couldn't speak for the others, but he knew for certain that he personally would never, _ever, _no matter how long he was subjected to them, grow used to the _awful _sounds.

There was no describing them. Evil, grating, chilling sounds; amplified by the night. The reddened smog drifted lazily above their heads, covering every inch of the night sky, leaving them completely in the dark. Only the small fire illuminated their pale, gaunt faces.

"Are we going to die out here?" Ginny whispered, speaking for the first time in two weeks. Her head injury, which she was still recovering from, had left her a little mentally slow, and had made Ron all the more protective of her.

Ron drew her closer to his side, very tenderly kissing the scar on her temple before pulling her close to his chest. "No," his voice wavered as he rocked himself and his little sister back and forth. "No Ginny. You deserve a better life than this. I'm gonna make it for you Gin', I promise. It'll take time, but I'll do anything for it. You'll get it, I promise. I promise. I promise…"

**AN: But can he keep that promise ?**

**What'ya think ? What is 'the seal' Falin speaks of ? What do you think of him being another horcrux ? Please review !**

**Also, SORREEEE - I moved out of my parent's house, my life has been HECTIC. Normally I have 4-5 chapters written ahead, so I can still post even in times like this, but I'm SO behind on all my stories, this is the absolute most recent chapter I have written, so it's likely to be another long long long time before I manage to update again but you'll get it, I promise. I promise. I promise...**


	19. Chapter 19

Hermione shivered, fear pulsing through every fibre of her being. She held the dog tightly to her chest, attempting to be motionless in her hiding place.

She could hear their terrible moaning, smell the evil stench their rotting bodies emitted. Perhaps worst of all, she could see their shadows against the ground and the wall of the crumbling building across from where she and the dog hid.

She prayed. She prayed like she never had before, and didn't stop to think about how she'd been praying an awful lot lately. What else was there for her to do? The situation was entirely out of her control; something she was beyond unused to. It was entirely foreign and it terrified her.

The dog remained as motionless and silent as Hermione, perhaps to an even greater extent. Somehow intelligent enough to sense that it was needed for survival, he rested his chin quietly on Hermione's shoulder while she clung to him for dear life.

Hermione could not cure the tremble in her lips, or the fastened pace of her breathing. She could only struggle to keep it shallow and quiet as the zombies slowly travelled passed their location; stupid and unable to smell her and the dog over the stench of their own kind.

Hermione and the dog she'd begun to call Velcro (because of how closely he stuck to her) had been traveling for nearly three days. It had taken them almost an entire day to climb out of the ravine, and another day to walk until they found this abandoned little town. They had spent the day looking for anything in town that hadn't been destroyed. Hermione had found some canned foods and other supplies that she had decided to bring along. Not long after the sun had gone down, she had fallen asleep, only to wake at dawn to Velcro desperately nuzzling her back to consciousness.

At first, she had been confused. Until she heard the terrible sounds, and the terror paired with the stench caused her to choke on her own heartbeat.

The two managed to secure a hiding place, in a dead-end alley between two crumbling buildings and behind some rubble. So far, for the past eight hours at least, they had been safe. There was utterly and completely no escape route, but they were safe.

The hiding reminded Hermione of when she was traveling with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Draco. When they had all stuffed themselves up under the little footbridge, hiding from the hoards. Everything had been simpler back then, she realised. They were all still intact, save for Ginny who had been unconscious through most of that time, and Harry, who had already lost his arm.

Somehow, she found herself nostalgic even for that time. When they had all been together. Things had changed so much since then. Some for the better; Harry recovering from the amputated limb, finding Luna, Ginny waking up.

But now what? Hermione didn't even know for certain if any of them were still alive. She didn't know if she was walking in the right direction, or if she would be able to make it anywhere on her aching feet, or if she'd run out of food before she could replenish it, or if she would die of thirst long before that even was a problem. What if she was eaten by zombies before she could even die of dehydration?

She honestly didn't think death in general was pleasant. But dying of dehydration sounded far more pleasant that being torn apart and eaten.

Hermione suddenly felt the weight of the weapon she held. A muggle handgun she had found in a partially intact home. It was full of ammunition, and she wasn't sure how effective it would be against the zombies; she had no intentions of finding out. Taking in a trembling breath, she closed her eyes, and vowed that if she were to die, she would die by that weapon, and by nothing else.

...

Meanwhile, in the outskirts of Crow's camp, Draco and Harry were attempting to help Falin wash his hair.

"Your hair is so damaged," Draco muttered, dumping more heated water onto Falin's head while the boy merely grunted in reply.

Harry made a face of shock and unease at all the blood they were washing out of the boy's hair. Truly, Falin's hair was so damaged he couldn't run his fingers through it without running into snags and ends that had been melded together by searing heat. His hair felt waxy, like plastic, or rubber. It didn't feel like real hair at all. It was impossible to comb his fingers through it.

"We're going to have to cut it," Harry murmured, still trying to work out some of the tangles while Draco continued dumping water over Falin's head.

"Cut my hair, and lose another arm, Scarhead," Falin hissed, spitting bloody, filthy water out of his mouth and flicking soaked, tangled tendrils of hair from his face. He was very clearly disgruntled by the whole process. He looked like a soggy, sopping mess, and wasn't one bit happy about it.

Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to sit here picking apart every tangle, _Freakshow. _You're going to have to do _something _to tame this mess."

"Just, leave the bloody tangles, awrite?! Just get the dirt out and I'll be happy." Falin buried his face in his arms, his knees drawn up. Everything he wore was now soaked in the filth that had run out of his hair in the past half hour they had been attempting to wash it. So in essence, they had done nothing but transfer the whole muddle from his head to his body.

"Too bad we haven't got real soap," Draco murmured, attempting to lather Falin's hair with some kind of natural soap made by some of the members of Crow's camp. It wasn't very effective.

"Blimey!" Harry cried, dumping another bucket of water over Falin's head and watching still more red water run off. "You may have a serious head injury under all this filth!" He picked at the clumps of hair, attempting to get a look at Falin's scalp.

"My head is numb," Falin agreede quietly, "all I can feel is a dozen layers of rubbish and your incessant picking." He cringed in pain as Harry merely grunted in reply and continued picking out clumps of dried blood and dirt.

It took them an hour, but eventually the three managed to get most of the filth out of Falin's hair, leaving Tooantuh to apply some poultice on the raw wounds on his scalp.

"Stop squirming."

Falin groaned, flinching every time Tooantuh touched his head. "I can't help it. It hurts."

"Honestly. What have you been doing all month, crawling through meat grinders?"

Falin scoffed, offering a sarcastic retort that Harry didn't catch over the sound of Draco asking him if he was all right.

"Fine," Harry replied absently, his eyes drawn away from Falin, "why do you ask?"

"You seem… distant." Draco picked at the end of the bandages on his stump; a nervous habit he had picked up in place of wringing his hands after losing his arm.

"I don't know. I've been… I just can't shake this feeling. I've had it for nearly a week now. Falin coming back only made it stronger, but I can't tell what it is. I just… don't like it."

Harry's words put Draco on edge. He held his silence, watching Tooantuh wrap bandages around Falin's head, and move on to his exposed arm. "Someone see if anyone in Crow's camp has some new clothes for him. These are filthy, and coming apart at the seams."

Draco stood to obey the order, and Harry stood with him.

"What?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"Come on then, you don't really want to go into the bowels of Crow's camp alone, do you?" Harry replied with an innocent smile.

Truly, Draco didn't. But he had been avoiding Harry since the other night. And what he'd begun to call the 'awkward hand thing'.

"Fine," Draco relented, casting a glance at the others in their group. "We'll be back. Falin will protect you."

The boy cast them a distasteful glare. "But who's gonna protect Falin? Has anyone thought of that? Oh no, no one worries about that, do they?" Falin muttered, yanking off one of his scuffed boots and dumping out the pebbles.

Rolling their eyes, Draco and Harry made off towards the centre of the woods, to Crow's camp.

"So what, are we just going to ask for clothes?" Harry asked once they were away from the group.

"...that's the idea…" Draco replied, moving with caution.

"Hault!" Not even two steps into Crow's camp, they were stopped by a masked warrior, who had a very large stick. Neither Harry nor Draco particularly wanted to be hit by said stick. It was very large.

"We want to speak to Crow. No wait- uh." Harry bailed from the request, not particularly wanting to actually speak to Crow. "We need new clothes for F-"

"For the Dark Lord," Draco cut in, pushing Harry aside. "Crow wouldn't want you to keep him waiting, now would he?"

The guard faltered. "Uh. No, no. Right this way." He lowered his defenses and lead the two into the camp. Pointing, he indicated a hut that was more decorated than the others; it had more colour on the outside, decorated by bright leaves and other things of nature. "That's Cheerful's hut. She's the tailor. Give 'er what sizes you need an' she'll fix you right up."

Harry thanked him and he and Draco made their way through what appeared to be a courtyard. "How did you know he would know who the Dark Lord is?" Harry had to ask before they reached Cheerful's hut.

Draco shrugged. "It was just a guess. Crow and his men seem terrified of Falin, and know him as 'my lord'."

Harry accepted that with an impressed nod. The two reached the hut just then, which they had to duck to enter. "Cheerful?" Harry called, looking around at all the clothes hanging from lines and fabrics strewn about.

"Huh? WHOAH!" A head appeared for a moment, and then vanished in a pile of fabric, and the little hut was filled with crashing sounds. "Oof. I'm okay! I'm fine." The woman, probably no older than twenty, stood back up, unsteady on her feet, dark hair flying everywhere.  
Out of everyone that Harry and Draco had seen so far, Cheerful appeared to be the most fashionable. It was no wonder she'd been chosen to be the tailor. She made the dirty, battered old clothing she wore look like it was meant to be that way. Giving them a wide smile, she said, "Cheerful, that's me. Except on Mondays."

"What are you on Mondays?" Harry asked.

She opened her mouth to reply, leaning on something only for it to give beneath her weight and she was sent sprawling again. "Ugh… Clumsy," she replied, pulling herself back to her feet.

Harry and Draco shared a glance. "We need new clothes for one of our camp mates. His are completely falling apart."

"Righty-o! What are his sizes?" She began scrambling around the hut, picking up items of clothing and measuring them.

Harry and Draco shared another glance. "Small," they said in unison.

"Very small."

"Petite, is he? What's his height in relation to you?" She asked, indicating Harry, who was the shorter of he and Draco. Draco smirked down at Harry, who didn't particularly care that he was short. It didn't stop him from being the Chosen One.

"Er… about here, I'd say." Harry indicated just above his shoulder.

"Eye level or head level?"

"Head. He's very small. Skinny, short. All that."

"Mm hmm. I see." She was still sorting through it all, pulling out a black t-shirt, a faded black bulletproof vest, and a pair of sturdy trousers. She folded them and handed them over. "Let me know if they need resizing, but they should work. Oh, and if he wants any kind of designs on them, I'm your man. Er. Woman."

Seeing the state of their own clothing, Cheerful wouldn't allow the two to leave until she'd found new clothing for them, and they left feeling brand new.

Harry thanked her, ducking out of the hut with Draco right behind him. "Any idea which way we came from?" He asked, indicating the the other side of the courtyard and the many huts they had weaved through to get to Cheerful's.

"Uhh…" Draco was about to pick a path, when the two of them heard a strange, angry set of sounds. Neither could describe the sounds they had heard, only that they were unusual. "Did you hear that?"

Harry nodded, instantly cautious. The two kept their eyes open wide as they sneaked around, not particularly wanting to run into the guard with the big stick.

Draco nodded to the hut the sound was coming from.

"There's someone inside," Harry whispered, not wanting to walk in on one of Crow's evil minions being evil. The sounds continued for a short while, Harry and Draco remaining silently hidden on the backside of the hut.

"There's no windows on this one," Draco observed quietly. "How odd."

Harry raised his pointer finger to his lips to tell Draco to be silent, before he indicated a tall, burly man ducking out of the hut, cracking his knuckles which were coated in blood.

"Shit, what do you think he's doing in there?" Draco whispered in alarm.

"One way to find out!" Harry stood and sneaked around to the front, ducking into the hut.

"Wait! Potter! Are you insane!? There could be more of them in there!" Despite his protests, Draco followed Harry into the hut, where they found a lanky… person?

"Is that… Hive?!" Harry exclaimed quietly, eyes wide.

"I-I think…?" Seeing as Draco had never seen Hive without their head covering, Draco wasn't sure it really was them until he saw the bright golden eyes. "Yes… I think it _is_ Hive…"

Hive did not appear human at all. In fact, they were very clearly _not _human. They were a strange and beautiful creature; mouthless, with bright golden eyes, and their skin was pale with many golden markings. Their hair was dark, short, and curly.

They looked up at Draco and Harry with tortured eyes, sweat pouring from their brow. Their arms were stretched over their head and tied to either side of the ceiling. Their body hung uselessly, their legs slumped on the ground. Blood dripped from bruises and open wounds across their torso.

"My god, what have they done to you!?" Draco hissed, hurrying closer to attempt to reach their wrists and pull them down.

Harry began collecting Hive's clothing from the floor. All they wore were their trousers and boots. Their chest was bare, and it along with their ribs sported many horrid bruises and cuts.

Draco had to strain to reach the ropes, but managed to cut Hive down within the time it took Harry to gather their clothing.

The lanky person (at this point, Harry still wasn't sure if they were a man or a woman, or if their species even had distinctions between the two) fell to their knees with a thud, and they slumped with exhaustion. Harry and Draco quickly helped them into their clothes, and between the two of them, they managed to help Hive stumble back through Crow's camp and into their own, avoiding detection only by the grace of God.

"Is that Hive?" Tooantuh stood abruptly, and the others (Narcissa, Abeque, Bellatrix, etc.) all turned to gawk.

"Crow's men had them tied up in a hut, they're injured." Draco and Harry helped Hive into a sitting position.

Tooantuh hurried over and attempted to remove their head covering, but Hive violently recoiled, covering their head with their arms and cowering away.

Tooantuh stopped abruptly, holding out her hands in a peaceful way. "I'm trying to help, Hive. I'm not going to hurt you."

Hive continued to scuttle backwards, until they ran into Abeque, who wrapped her little arms around them, and Hive's stiff shoulders relaxed. They lay there trembling for a moment, leaning against little Abeque who struggled to hold them up.

"It's okay Hive," she told them, hugging their neck.

Again, Tooantuh attempted to remove Hive's hood and head covering, and this time, they let her.

Draco and Harry were again awed by Hive's appearance. The first thing that was blaringly obvious was why they were mute. They had no mouth. Where lips should be, there was nothing but flesh, and it was obvious they were born that way. Their skin was pale, almost luminescent, and had small golden indentations in strangely beautiful patterns on their face.

"Are those… tattoos…?" Tooantuh asked in confusion, very gently tracing a finger over them. She was startled to find that they were not. "My god… he's… what is this? Some kind of skin disease? Where is his mouth…?" She recoiled a bit, frightened.

Hive's expression was anxiety-ridden, their golden eyes wide and fixed on Harry. Harry wasn't sure why; there was nothing he could do for them.

"I don't think they're human, Tooantuh." Draco murmured, kneeling down beside her and placing his hand comfortingly on Hive's shoulder. "Just, please, help them. They're hurt."

"Okay; okay.. I've seen stranger things…" Tooantuh reminded herself quietly, closing her eyes for a moment. "Dragons… magic… I can handle aliens too…"

"I think he's pretty," Abeque piped up, smilingly smoothing her fingers over Hive's chin, inspecting their face. Hive's terror-filled eyes relaxed as they watched the little girl smile at him with bright hazel eyes, and she was able to keep Hive calm while Tooantuh inspected them.

"They're fascinating," Harry murmured to Draco after they had stepped aside to allow Tooantuh a chance to take a look at Hive's injuries.

"I wonder how their species communicate, without mouths." Draco agreed, sitting down wearily.

"Well, if Hive ever wants to communicate with us, I'm sure they'll find a way."

The two sat around the campfire, which wasn't currently lit. Falin was sound asleep a few paces away, still halfway leant against a tree.

"Should we wake him?" Harry asked, indicating the new, clean clothing he somehow managed to hold onto even after helping Hive. Harry couldn't even consciously remember keeping hold of the clothing during that time. "Can't be comfortable sleeping in that rubbish."

Draco considered this for a moment, then shook his head. "Let him sleep. He's always had insomnia; waking him wouldn't be fair, when it's not easy for him to fall asleep to begin with."

So with that, they allowed him to sleep. He slept through the rest of the day, and slept through the lot of them telling stories over the campfire when the sun went down, and in the morning when the rest begun to stir and wake; still he slept.

"Just… eh… check and make sure he's still breathing, yeah?" Harry suggested by midday, when Falin still hadn't even moved.

Draco obeyed, moving carefully over to crouch before his small cousin, watching his chest for movement. When he saw none, he reached for a pulse. "Well.. he's still alive." He murmured, cautiously putting his head to Falin's chest, and waiting. "His breathing is shallow, but steady. Seems to be in one hell of a deep sleep." He carefully moved away, back over to Harry and Narcissa.

"You should wake him," Narcissa murmured, quietly helping Tooantuh change the bandage around her amputated leg, "when he lived with us, briefly…." she hesitated, but shook her head and decided to continue. "When you were very young, Draco, Falin and his parents lived with us... His mother… would beat him… and he would fall into comas because of severe head trauma he's suffered over and over again. Since then, any irregular amounts of sleep he's gotten has been dangerous… his sleeping used to be monitored by his father on a regular basis…"

Tooantuh raised her head in concern, eyes on Falin. "He had a lot of bruising on his scalp… there's no doubt he hit his head several times recently."

"Shit, just what we need," Draco hissed, standing back up and moving over to Falin. "Hey, wake up!" He poked Falin's shoulder gently. "Time to wake up, Falin! Come on, please wake up!" He grabbed Falin's shoulder and shook him.

Falin's arms, which had been wrapped around his chest, fell loose. Both landed limply at his sides, and his head tipped to the left, causing him to lose the balance he'd had against the tree, and slump sideways.

"He's not waking up!" Draco cried.

Knowing Falin was normally a light sleeper, Harry stood and hurried over to assist, ignoring the pain in his head due to sudden proximity to the living horcrux. "Falin! Wake up!" He prodded some of Falin's bandaged wounds, hoping the pain would bring him back to the world, but the boy did not stir.

Narcissa only shook her head, looking away. "Not good…"

Harry crouched beside the boy, inspecting him closely. "What did you normally do to wake him up from these comas?" He asked, looking over his shoulder at the woman.

"We took him to a hospital, and he stayed there until they managed to revive him."

"Great. Not like we've got any number of those on call," Draco muttered, covering his face tiredly with his hand.

"There's got to be something else we can do!" Harry carefully lifted one of Falin's eyelids, inspecting his pupils even though he wasn't sure what he was looking for. He wasn't so keen on giving up as Draco appeared to be.

"Just… sit by him and talk to him. It's all you can do." Narcissa replied tiredly.

So that's what they did.

**AN: So, do you think they can get Falin out of the coma ? Is Hermione gonna be able to find them ? Who do you think is currently in the most danger of dying ? What do you think of Hive not being human ? What do you think happened to Neville and Luna ? Please review !**

**AS ALWAYS, IF YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT THE CHARACTERS LOOK LIKE, PLEASE VISIT THE MIGHTY SLYTHERINS WIKI **


	20. Chapter 20

"FUCK! I don't wanna live anymore, just fucking _kill me, _please!"

"Calm down! Please, Ron, you're gonna be okay!" Chance tried to comfort Ron who was sobbing over a bite wound on his shoulder, shaking terribly while the others worked desperately to slice away the skin around the wound before the infection could spread.

"SON OF A BITCH!" Ron slammed his fist against the ground over and over, grinding his teeth together; anything he could do to try and ignore the evil pain. Ron let out another terrible scream when another bit of his flesh was cut away.

"There, there, it's done, Ron! You're gonna be fine, it's not that bad!" Chance began wrapping the wound tightly with a bit of cloth she'd ripped from her dress.

Ron cast her a tortured glare, choking on his own spit and tears. "So says the one WITHOUT- _FUCKING BITE_\- god damn it!" He threw back his head, losing his train of thought through the blinding pain. "Where's the fucking zombie? I'll rip his fucking balls off-"

"It was a girl zombie-" Nantan cut in falteringly as Ron's pained glare turned to her.

He strained to sit up further, spitting with rage and physical agony. "THEN I'LL RIP OFF _HER _BALLS! _Merlin!" _He fell back again, groaning and letting the pain out via angry, agnoised noises.

"Lucky for you, I killed it, or it would be drawn back to us by all the racket you're making." Chance muttered, moving away from him.

"I lost a chunk of my shoulder, I think I've bloody well got the right to scream!" He spat at her, tears still pouring from his eyes.

"It wasn't _that big _of a chunk," Chance scoffed, cleaning off her blade with a pretentious smile, "just a flesh wound. Hardly lost any muscle. Mostly skin."

"OH! Just skin. I just lost some skin and a bit of muscle, is that it? Oh is that it, oh Merlin…" Ron's anger ebbed away and he was sobbing again, frustratedly trying to push the pain away from his consciousness. "Blimey…"

Silence filled the space they were in, and nothing but Ron's whimpers could be heard.

Nantan was watching the horizon, her eyes stinging and her nose running from the dust that had been unsettled by the scuffle with the zombie.

It had been a lone zombie - which was odd. Usually they came in groups. She was wary of the silence. It was deceiving.

"Do we even have enough food to last another month?" Ron asked tersely after a long bout of silence.

"We haven't even got enough to last another week," Chance replied, going through their food stores. "We'll have to go out soon."

Ron blinked away the tears clouding his vision, and his eyes landed on Ginny who was still sitting silently where she had been sitting for the past hour - she hadn't even flinched when the zombie had shown up out of nowhere, latching its gross mouth on Ron's shoulder while Chance reacted in an instant - decapitating it and kicking away the head. The zombie's dead body walked a few steps away before collapsing in a dead heap.

None of it had even made Ginny move. Ron suddenly felt a pain in his chest that far surpassed the pain in his shoulder. "What about Ginny? She can't go out, it's not safe… she can't travel."

Chance sighed heavily, her tired eyes landing on the girl. "She and Nantan can stay in camp while you and I search for food…"

"Guys?" Nantan interrupted, eyes still on the horizon. "I think another zombie is coming this way…"

Chance swiftly moved to stand behind the girl, peering over her shoulder. Ron groaned and sat up, straining to see passed the two. "How close it it?"

Chance was squinting at the figure, clutching her weapon tightly. "I don't think it's a zombie…" she murmured, then shook her head. "I'm not sure. Get ready to fight, if it's another lone zombie, we can take it."

"How close it it?" Ron asked again, crawling over to rest his chin on Nantan's shoulder, trying to relieve the weight from his arm. He squinted through the dust and the haze, his eyes scrutinising the slowly moving human body. He recognised the outline of the figure. "That's…" he breathed, his eyes widening slowly. "Her… Hermione!" Suddenly filled with energy, Ron threw himself to his feet, launched up and over the two girls and the rubble they hid behind, and began sprinting across the desert towards her. Shoulder be damned.

"Wait, RON!" Chance called, stopping Nantan from running after him. "If she's a zombie now too, he's gonna get himself killed…"

Ron's grin grew with every step closer he got, and every step closer he got, he became more and more certain it was Hermione. "Hermione!"

The figure's limping pace slowed, and then increased, and Ron could see a smile break out on her face, and then a moment later, he caught her in his arms, spinning her around and holding her so tightly the breath left his lungs, the pain left his body, and his laughter turned into a sob halfway through escaping his throat.

"RON!" Hermione sobbed, shivering and clinging to him for dear life while Velcro wagged his tail and wove around their legs.

"Oh Hermione… 'Mione… oh 'Mione… oh thank Merlin…" Ron sobbed, kissing her head over and over and rocking them back and forth on their feet.

"Is Harry alive?" Hermione asked as soon as Ron released her from the crushing hug long enough to hold her at arm's length to inspect her for injuries, grinning and cupping her face lovingly in his hands. Ron's tearful smile faltered a bit at the question, and he cast his eyes downward.

Hermione's wide smile also faded, and she choked. "He- is he-"

"I don't know," Ron murmured sadly, pulling her close again. "He jumped on the dragon, and you, Ginny, and I fell into the water… after you disappeared I don't know what happened to him. There was a hoard overhead, and I heard them fighting, but Gin' and I weren't able to climb up until they were gone…"

The two and the dog began walking slowly back towards the encampment Ron and the others had made.

"So it's just you and Ginny?" Hermione asked sorrowfully, thinking of all the friends she had made in the New Black World Tribe. Had all of them died…?

"It's me, Gin', Nantan, and Chance," Ron replied, cringing as he suddenly felt the pain in his shoulder again.

"You're bleeding!" Hermione cried.

"Just a flesh wound," Ron muttered dismissively, trying in vain to forget the fuss he'd made about it earlier. Ron took her hand and held it tight while they made their way back to the others, who were waiting with smiles to greet them.

Ron noticed Velcro faithfully trotting at Hermione's side. "Where'd you get the dog?"

Hermione suddenly seemed to remember that he was with her. "Oh! This is Velcro. He found me after I was washed up a few miles that way," she waved in the general direction of the little green glen she'd found, "I probably wouldn't have made it this far without him."

Chance eyed the dog disdainfully. "Great, another mouth to feed. We'd be better off just eating him."

"EW!" Nantan cried, horrified.

Hermione dropped down to hug the dog protectively. She pulled her bag off her shoulder and tossed it to Chance's feet. "There's food in there. Eat that. Leave Velcro be."

Chance scowled, snatching up the bag to inspect the contents within. "The zombie apocalypse we are in hardly allows for pets. If you're not useful, I say you're food."

Aghast, Hermione spluttered. "How barbaric! It may be the apocalypse, but we've got to maintain a level of civility!"

Velcro snarled when Chance came closer. "Whatever," she said, backing away again, "just keep that fleabag away from me, and give it part of your food, don't take from ours."

"Fine." Hermione shot back, petting Velcro's head soothingly.

Everyone jumped out of their skin when, out of nowhere, a violent thunderclap pierced the skies, and menacing black clouds began rolling in. Storms seemed to suddenly appear without warning these days. The sky had been clear a moment ago. Well, Hermione mused, as clear as could be allowed for the Apocalypse. Most days one couldn't even catch a glimpse of the sky through the reddish-black smog that seemed to constantly linger overhead.

"Not another storm…" Nantan whimpered, clutching her chest which contained her rapidly beating heart.

"Just what we need," Chance muttered sarcastically. "Okay, everyone back inside, unless you fancy being struck by lightning." She herded them into their shelter, and the lot of them huddled together as a sudden gust of wind brought a biting chill, and chased away the ghastly heat that had been encompassing the land for the past several weeks since the last storm.

"Will we ever go back to the lives we used to have?" Nantan whispered mournfully, snuggling up closer to Ron, who wrapped a protective arm around her.

"I…" Ron chose his words carefully, watching the girl's terrified, sorrowful expression for a moment. "I don't think anything will ever be the same… but... that doesn't mean we won't ever be happy again. We just have a lot of rebuilding to do…"

Another thunder clap brought them all closer together, and Ginny buried her face deeply into her brother's chest, terrified. Ron hugged her close, resting his cheek on Hermione's head while she huddled closer to him on his other side. He didn't even mind that her head was putting pressure on his wounded shoulder.

"We need to find somewhere we can sustain ourselves. We can't do that from here." Chance's soft voice echoed off the walls of the cave, nearly buried by the next clap of thunder.

Hermione thought silently for a moment, feeling the weight of Velcro in her lap.

"...I think I know a place…"

**...**

"I got you. Just climb up." Neville's hand held Luna's tightly, and he helped her climb up onto the rock beside him.

The two sat in silence, watching the sun go down behind a thick layer of evil greenish-red smog, and listening to the thunder in the distance.

Luna pointed suddenly, and Neville's eyes traveled to the little patch of vibrant green in the valley below.

Neville reached for the binoculars she held, and when she handed them over, he focused on the little patch of green surrounded by blackened earth. "Well… it's certainly the most friendly looking of anywhere, isn't it?" He murmured.

"Let me see," Jason asked, reaching for the binoculars as well. Jason was an ex-military officer that had rescued Neville and Luna from a hoard of zombies by unloading a magazine clip on them. Jason (aka "call me Jase") was certifiably badass.

"Yep," Jase murmured, peering through the binoculars, "that's definitely where we wanna go. Not tonight. Get some sleep. I'll keep watch. I'll wake you in a couple hours, Neville, so we can switch."

Neville nodded agreeably to that, used to the routine, which they had established over the past three weeks they had been traveling with Jase and his family.

Neville and Luna had met Jase and his wife, son, and daughter by chance after a week of avoiding zombies on their own. By pure luck, the one time they were careless and became surrounded, Jase and his family had shown up and rained down upon the zombies with all the fiery wrath of god.

Rhoda, Ellie, and Aaron (Jase's wife, daughter, and small son) had taken an instant liking to Neville and Luna. Luna and Ellie hit it off really well, due to their shared eccentricity and closeness in age. Neville saw his mother in Rhoda, and gravitated towards her very much during their travels. He enjoyed listening to her talk about how she and Jase met, and recounting happy memories with a sad smile.

Little Aaron, who was about five, seemed entirely oblivious to how bad of a situation they were all in. His parents seemed to be taking great measures to make sure their son wasn't frightened or confused by anything that they went through.

The family was very glad to meet Luna and Neville, as they said they hadn't met another human being for the past two months. After the zombies had first started showing up in the world, Jase, who had been deployed in some far-off place fighting some stupid, petty war, had come running home to collect his family and prepare for the apocalypse.

"They hit our home town about a week after they first started showing up on the news, infecting far-off lands. We'd had just enough time to decide that it wasn't a hoax and prepare for it, but there was no way for us to be truly ready. The zombies totally wiped out our town. We barely escaped…"

Luna leaned against Neville as they huddled around the campfire and listened to the story for the second or third time. Despite the grim topic, Jase loved bragging on his daughter, who he claimed, with god-like strength, had lifted a wooden beam off his leg and saved him from a building going up in flames.

Ellie would only shake her head and smile at the fact that the Ellie in his tale became more and more heroic each time it was told.

It was during these times that Neville would curl up next to Luna by the fire, and realise he was more in love with her than he ever had been. And Luna was slowly realising, in the moments that Neville would look at her as though she were the only thing in his world, that the feeling might be mutual.

...

Meanwhile, back at Crow's Camp, Crow was paying a rather unwelcomed visit to Harry, Draco, and the others. Hive had-had only a moment's notice to hide before the man was invading their personal space with his rather repugnant personality.  
"We wanted to warn you that there's a dangerous creature lurking about that escaped from captivity yesterday; you haven't seen it, have you?"

Assuming that Crow was talking about Hive, Harry and the others played dumb to protect them. "What does it look like?" Harry asked in an attempt to further their innocence by way of ignorant curiosity.

Crow narrowed his eyes only slightly, now staring directly at Harry. He was silent for a moment, as if contemplating whether he should admit that Hive was humanoid. "You'll know it when you see it. It's horrendously ugly, walks on two legs, and has the ability to confuse one into believing it's human."

Draco raised his eyebrows, surprised Crow hadn't been more vague. Harry was offended on Hive's behalf; Hive was anything but ugly. Strange, perhaps... but certainly not ugly.

Tooantuh scoffed at that. "Such a creature doesn't exist, Crow. If you're having hallucinations, might I suggest you see your camp healer? Or, I could check your head myself, if you like."

Harry had to cough to hide his laughter, but Crow's sharp eyes were instantly back on him, narrowed all the more. "No, dear doctor, thank you. I'm quite certain that you've forgotten that zombies used to be beasts of fiction. So you should be more open-minded to other strange creatures roaming the earth."

"Well the one you described sounds harmless enough." Tooantuh began putting away her medical instruments, discretely hiding the ones that still had Hive's blood on them.

Crow pressed his lips together, intent on shooting down every suggestion that he wasn't being entirely truthful. "It is actually quite dangerous. It took five of my strongest men just to incapacitate it."

At this, Harry knew Crow was exaggerating. They all had seen Crow's men take Hive down. Hive had been so weak from heat and travel that they'd been very easily taken out by two men. And _then _the other three joined in on beating on them before they were dragged away, unconscious. Hive had been so motionless that Harry had honestly assumed that they had been killed by the brutal, merciless beating.

"Now… you wouldn't happen to mean that man that stumbled into our camp earlier this month, would you?" Harry asked slowly, gauging Crow's reaction. "Because he really didn't put up much of a fight."

Crow's lips formed a thin smile. "That was no man. But yes, you are quite right. You've got a good memory, Scarhead." He stared at Harry suspiciously for a moment before he looked away again. "The creature is, zombies aside, the strangest thing I've ever laid eyes on. It has no mouth, and my doctors told me that its skull, from what they can tell of it, is entirely different from a human skull. It's quite fascinating, really, if you can get off from that sort of thing. It isn't as though it's just got a strip of flesh over a jaw and teeth and all that sort. It hasn't got an upper and lower jaw, just one solid bit of bone across the front of the face, nothing but eye sockets. To be quite honest, the skull would make a fine replacement for my mask. Mine was damaged in an excursion last week, can you imagine?" The question was obviously rhetorical.

Everyone remained silent, staring at him as he nodded appreciatively at his own barbaric statement, his eyes risen skyward. "So it has one solid bit of bone where a human would have teeth and a separation between the upper and lower jaw. And where humans would have a mouth cavity, it has nothing but brain. A rather large brain that fills its entire skull, but you know what they say, the bigger the brain, the dumber the beast."

Harry was having quite enough of Crow's hateful spiel, but he remained silent, unprepared for the repercussions of angering their host, who had been dutifully supplying them with safety, food, and other supplies for the past month. Not out of any goodness of his own heart, though it wouldn't do to anger him, nevertheless.

"There's nothing more dangerous than someone or something that is, in fact, incredibly… _stupid." _At this, he made eye contact first with Tooantuh, who was silently cleaning off her tools, and then Harry, who was fiddling with the buckle that had fallen off of Hive's belt. Harry knew that Crow was observant, and incredibly intelligent. He had little hope that Crow didn't already know, one way or another, that Hive had been in their camp.

"Well," Crow offered a false smile, his eyes risen skyward again, as if searching for something, "I've bothered you good people long enough. I'll post a few guards nearby to protect you from the creature."

"That won't be necessary," Draco cut in with venom dripping from his words. He had been silent the whole time, glaring with murderous intensity right straight through Crow's head. "The Dark Lord will protect us."

Crow's eyes landed on Draco, and he furrowed his brow at the evil glare. His eyes then traveled over to Falin who was still in a coma. They had changed the bandages on his head and put the new clothing on him after treating the many wounds on his body. They had made a bed for him out of their own blankets and coats.

He looked peaceful, and utterly harmless. His sleeping face was overly-pretty for a young man, he in fact resembled a girl more when his face wasn't covered in a scowl. He looked less than threatening, which wasn't playing very well in their favour at the moment.

"Your Lord is sleeping," Crow murmured dangerously, his eyes flicking back to Draco's vicious expression.

Crow let his weapon rest on his shoulder, cast one more look upwards, smiled, turned on his heel, and walked away.

"I hate him," Draco hissed as soon as he was out of earshot.

"What are we going to do? As soon as Crow finds out Falin is no longer able to protect us, we're dead!" Tooantuh whispered urgently.

"Not only that," Harry murmured, eyes locked on Hive who was peering down at them with anxious eyes, still hiding up in the very tree Crow had just been staring at, "there's no doubt Crow knows Hive is here. There's no reason why he hasn't done anything about it yet, other than he's torturing us with the knowledge that we know he knows, and we're just sitting here, waiting for him to do something about it."

Everyone was silent for a long moment, fearful for their lives.

"We've got to get out of here," Harry decided softly, taking on the role of leader as he felt that everyone in the group was his responsibility. "It's not safe anymore. Pack as much as you can carry. We're leaving as soon as it gets dark."

No one challenged his authority or his judgement, merely obeyed and began packing up what little they had.

"What if Falin doesn't wake before then? You and I can't carry him. Abby and Tooantuh can't either," Draco murmured, looking at Narcissa who was fearfully clutching little Abeque, wondering what tomorrow would bring. "What about my mother? And what about Bells and Harri? Are they coming too?"

Harry sighed softly, going over all the semantics in his head. "Hive will carry Falin. You and I will help your mother. Tooantuh and Abby will carry whatever they can, and Bellatrix and Harri are more than welcome to come if they want. They've been camping with us all month, instead of with Crow. I can only assume that means we're better company."

"But she says she's in love with Crow," Draco persisted, adrenaline making him jumpy and paranoid, "what if she won't leave him, what if she tells him that we're leaving?"

Harry shook his head slowly, offering a helpless shrug. "We'll tell her right before we leave, then. Give her some shit reason why we're going, give her the choice to come along, and see what happens."

Draco let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly. "I… don't like any of this…" he looked around their little camp slowly, wondering if he would ever again find a place to call home, or if he was doomed to relocating for the rest of his life. "All right. Until dark, then. Get some rest." He slowly sat down, and then laid back, trying to get comfortable.

Harry did the same nearby, knowing full well that with their impending journey, there was no way he was going to get any sleep.

His eyes landed on little Falin once more before he fell asleep. The boy had not stirred in the slightest since he had been put there. There seemed to be little hope of him ever waking up. Despite his misgivings with the boy, Harry silently prayed that Falin would wake up before they left, seeing as they had better chances of actually surviving with him to protect them.  
Still, though, Harry couldn't help but wonder what side Falin was really on. If he did wake up... what would he do with all that magic festering inside of him? Was there any chance he wouldn't use it for good? Could he _really _be trusted? Would he ever wake up? Would they all be better off... if he didn't?

**AN: So, Ron and Hermione are reunited, and Neville and Luna are still alive. Do you think Harry and Draco telling Bellatrix about their plan to leave is a good idea ? Do you think Falin will wake up, and do you think he even should ? Will they be able to escape Crow and his bastard army ? Do you think Ginny will ever recover ? Please review !**

**AS ALWAYS, TO READ MORE ABOUT THE CHARACTERS AND SEE WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE, VISIT THE MIGHTY SLYTHERINS WIKI !**


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: I haven't stopped to thank my faithful reviewers in a while. So special thanks to ThatOneGirlNoOneNotices, heronlove, and roon0 for reviewing every chapter consistently for quite some time. Thank you ! (I am still writing this because of you guys)**

"How's it look?" Ron asked with a cringe as Chance and Hermione changed the wrappings on his wound.

"Like you lost a chunk of your shoulder, Ron. It's healing just fine, though," Hermione responded, brow furrowed at the painful sight.

"See? You were whining for nothing," Chance said smugly, ripping another strip of fabric from her skirt so she could re-wrap the wound.

"I wouldn't say for nothing," Hermione hurriedly defended him.

Chance smirked at the two, glancing back and forth between them before nodding in understanding. "Oh. Well. I'm just giving him a hard time. We're best mates, aren't we Ronnie?" She ruffled his hair before standing and stretching. "So when are we getting out of this dump, anyway?"

Ron was giving her his best glare, but he couldn't really hold it. It was true; in the month he, Chance, and Nantan had spent together, they had grown closer. Due to the uncomfortable situation of no real food, very little clean water, and the whole 'zombie thing', tensions were high and they had snapped at each other a good many times. But that didn't mean they weren't friends. Ron felt as though he would easily die for any of them. They were his family now.

"We should leave now," Hermione replied, attempting to pack up what little they had. "By morning the zombies will be sleeping. We don't want to travel in the heat. We can make good time, back to a little town Velcro and I explored yesterday. There's still some supplies there that I couldn't carry myself, we can stock up on the way."

"What's that?" Ron interrupted, nodding to the gun he suddenly noticed was secured to her belt.

"Oh," Hermione placed a hand on it thoughtfully, "it's a muggle weapon, it's called a gun. I found it with the food and other things in the town we passed through. I don't know if it will work against the zombies, but I'd rather have it than not."

Ron nodded, oblivious to the fact that Hermione only still carried it with the intention of killing herself to save herself from being eaten alive; a fate she had come to greatly fear.

"Come on, Ginny. Time to go." Ron collected his sister from the floor, feeling his chest ache again as he lifted her without much effort; she was growing terribly thin. Of course, the rest of them were malnourished as well, but he couldn't help but notice that she grew lighter and lighter each time he picked her up.

"Ready?" Chance asked, adjusting her rucksack.

"Ready," Nantan agreed, picking up her own bag and watching Hermione do the same.

"Let's go then." The five of them plus Velcro began making their way away from the camp.

"Wait!" Hermione called before they were more than ten steps away. She hurried back into the shelter, and the others waited impatiently until she popped back out, nodding. "Okay, let's go."

"Forget something?" Ron asked.

"Yeah."

Back inside the cave, Hermione had shifted some rocks into the shape of an arrow pointing in the direction they had gone; just in case Harry or the others survived and came looking for them.

…

Meanwhile, back at Crow's camp, it was just after midnight or thereabouts, and Harry and the others were preparing to take their silent leave.

With Narcissa between Harry and Draco, Tooantuh and Abeque carrying as much as they could between them, and little Falin tucked in Hive's arms, they were ready to leave. Not one of them doubted that it was the wise thing to do.

"What about Bella?" Narcissa asked for the last time as they started moving, glancing over her shoulder longingly.

"I don't think we should risk telling her…" Harry murmured when he and Draco shared a knowing glance.

"She's happy here, and safe, and we don't have any idea where we're going or when we'll get there. She's pregnant, she shouldn't be traveling anyway," Draco offered softly, in hopes his mother would understand.

"And I should?" Narcissa muttered, hopping along between the two boys on her one leg, already panting from the effort.

"Cissy?" A tired voice called out, bringing them all to a stop.

"Shit."

"Cissy, where are you going?"

Narcissa and the boys turned around to face Bellatrix, who hobbled over to them tiredly, a sleepy little Harri trailing along behind her, clutching a fistful of her mother's skirt with one hand and rubbing her eye with the other.

"That's what I would like to know," said a menacing voice behind them, and Harry felt his heart rise into his throat. He turned to look at Crow who stood, leant against a tree, arms folded over his chest. He was barely visible in the dark.

"We're moving on. We never said we'd stay here forever," Draco replied bitterly, still holding much resentment for the man.

Crow stepped towards them, raising a torch and lighting it on fire to illuminate their pale faces and make his own five times more frightening. "In the dead of night? Why don't you wait until morning? My men will see you off, fill your arms with as much food as you can carry. Maybe if you stay a bit longer, we could even fashion a wheelchair of sorts for dear Cissy." He nodded to Narcissa, who hung between her son and Harry, eyes wide and stricken with anger and fear.

"We don't want anything from you, Crow," she told him forcefully.

Crow nodded slowly at that, then raised his eyes to them once more. "Then why, pray tell, did you lot bum off of me for an entire month, hmm? And this one I really would like to know; why does you Lord continue to sleep? _And, _is that not the very creature I warned you about, holding your dear little Lord in its arms?"

Hive cradled Falin's limp body to their chest, more protective than ever, their golden eyes reflecting the torchlight the same way a cat's would.

No one knew how to respond, nor did they see any point in running; Harry and Draco would have to drop Narcissa to get anywhere anytime soon, Hive would have to drop Falin, Tooantuh and Abeque would have to abandon all of their food and supplies. None of these were options. No one was going to be left behind, and they wouldn't survive a day out there without their food, water, and other supplies. Least of all without each other.

"So what are you going to do, Crow?" Draco challenged softly, very much prepared to die in the very near future.

Crow was silent, weighing his options. He glanced at Bellatrix, who was clutching her daughter's shoulders and watching the confrontation with wide eyes; it was impossible to know just what was going through her head. She (optimistically, determining that the morals she had after amnesia set in were to be believed to be consistent) didn't wish harm on her sister or Draco or even her son, but would she step in to protect them all? Would Crow listen to her even if she did?

Draco counted on the fact that Bellatrix would at least try to protect him again. But if she didn't protect Harry, he would, and he would die trying. Narcissa would die trying to protect Draco. Tooantuh would die to protect Abeque, and Hive was a wild card, but Draco liked to believe that they would at the very least try to protect Falin, who they had scarcely let out of their sight for the past twelve hours.

Finally, Crow spoke again. "I'm not going to kill any of you, not yet, at least. But I'm not going to let you leave. Not when you owe me so much."

"What do you want?" Harry asked bitterly. "Whatever debt we owe you, from whatever kindness you were forced to show us for fear of your life, was nullified when you and your men tried to kill us before we were under the Dark Lord's protection." He continued to refer to Falin as the 'Dark Lord' for the benefit of the effect it had on Crow's confidence. It deflated like a balloon every time.

Crow took one step back to assess the situation before he replied again, his voice dark and low. "Careful, Scarhead. Your Lord is sleeping."

"He'll wake up," Harry said with false bravado, "and when he does and finds that you've treated us in any manner that he finds unbefitting, you _will _regret it."

Crow's lips stretched into a thin smile. "Not if he doesn't wake up."

"He will," Harry insisted forcefully.

"I have ways of making certain that he doesn't," said Crow dangerously.

Hive took a step back, cradling Falin protectively to their chest. The others shifted where they stood, filled with unease.

"He can't die," Harry told him strongly, going on personal experience of how it had happened before, assuming the same principles would apply to Falin, "he's got more than one soul in his body. You kill him, and he'll just wake right back up again, more powerful than before." He kept his voice strong and his glare hard, praying that Crow wouldn't call his bluff, because truly, there were no certainties. It was only safe to assume that because it had happened once it could happen again.

Crow chuckled at that. "Who said anything about killing him? People can live in comas for the rest of their natural lives. No, he's far too…" Crow leaned forward and watched the boy's sleeping face, tenderly stroking the ashen cheek, and Hive took another step away from him, "_pretty… _far too _pretty _to kill… not when my men are all starving for some fun with so few women in our midst."

Everyone felt their stomachs drop at the perverse implication.

"No," Crow rumbled, taking Falin's tiny, delicate hand and inspecting the dark bruising smattered against the pale flesh stretched over the boney knuckles. He drew the delicate fingers to his lips, met Hive's murderous gaze for a moment before dropping the hand and watching it fall limp with perverse fascination. "I will in fact go to great lengths to keep the dear Lord alive. He's far too important to me. If his mother is any indication, he will be quite satisfying."

"Barbaric," Tooantuh spat softly.

Crow pinched her cheek with a wicked glint in his eyes. "Come now my dear, in this age of mercilessness I am quite lenient. A lap of luxury," he slapped his thigh and made everyone jump at the sudden sound, "the little Lord, under my protection as my personal companion; doesn't sound too terribly bad, now does it? As opposed to becoming zombie fodder." Crow paced a slow circle around them, his torch briefly illuminating the faces of many masked figures hiding in the shadows, surrounding them; still, silent, menacing.

Harry felt his heart begin to beat faster as he realised that the situation had suddenly become beyond hopeless, if it hadn't already been from the start.

"The dear doctor, Cissy, and the little one aren't much use to me other than entertainment, either." He petted Abeque's little blonde head, and the girl hid behind Tooantuh, who barely restrained herself from lashing out at the man. Crow merely grinned, winked, and moved on. He stopped to inspect Harry and Draco for a moment, and managed to make Draco's scowl increase tenfold simply by taking his chin by the thumb and forefinger, so as to tip the boy's head side-to-side in an inspection that suggested a slave master surveying his new prospect. After determining he liked what he saw, he turned his eyes to the group as a whole, and raised his voice.

"As a matter of fact, none of you seem worth anything. A bunch of amputees and overly-pretty children. What do you think, boys? They're all easy on the eyes, wouldn't you say? You would all like a go with one of them, yeah? A nice wee bird on your shoulder. Now how does that sound?" He was met with agreeing grunts and roaring laughter.

Draco was horrified by the notion of becoming a sex slave for Crow's men, but Harry remained firm, not backing down from the false bravado he had been upholding thus far.

"The Dark Lord will not have it. There's no controlling him. He sleeps and wakes whenever he wants to. You can try your best, but you won't be able to keep him asleep. You can't kill him, control him, or do to him as you please." Using Crow's obvious fear of Falin to his advantage seemed to be losing more and more effect the longer Falin was in a coma. Crow didn't seem to be afraid anymore, even in the slightest.

Crow chuckled. He handed his torch over to one of his minions and moved back over to Hive. "Give him to me."

Hive's eyes burned with a hot intensity, and if they were capable of speech, Harry knew that their words would be some variation of 'go fuck yourself'.

Crow drew his gun and pointed it at Hive's head, but they remained firm, staring Crow down with violent hatred behind their golden eyes.

"No?" Crow murmured, eyebrows raised. "No, I suppose not. Fine then, how about this?" He lowered his gun until it was pressed to Falin's temple, and at this, Hive relented, looking away.

Crow's grin spread across his face once more, and he put his weapon back in his holster, carefully lifting little Falin out of Hive's resisting arms.

Crow moved slowly back over to the middle of the clearing, where all eyes were on him, and his actions were illuminated by the flickering torchlight. Everyone waited in silent, nervous anticipation of what he was going to do to the unconscious boy. "This, my dear Scarhead, is doing to him as I please." Crow hooked his arm under Falin's neck and drew his face to his own. With repulsive intensity, he kissed Falin's sleeping, unresisting lips. Narcissa and Bellatrix let out similar sounds of horror, whilst Tooantuh looked away in revulsion and Abeque had to grab Hive's wrist to keep them from storming over to Crow and ripping his head off.

"You're making a mistake, Crow!" Harry growled, hatred for the man pumping through his veins at a rapid pace.

"He's not waking up, Scarhead!" Crow taunted, perversely drawing his tongue across Falin's cheek. The boy's head lolled back lifelessly. Stuck in his own brain, unaware of what was going on, and unable to stop it.

"Stop! Put him down, you _sick _son of a bitch!" Draco demanded, appalled by Crow's perverse actions towards Draco's unconscious cousin. It wasn't fair! Falin couldn't fight back! The sound of Crow's men's laughter sent chills to Draco's very core, knowing this night would not end well for any of them.

Crow's hearty, wicked chuckle put a lump in everyone's throat, and Harry felt his heart drop into his stomach when Crow knelt down and carelessly dropped Falin onto the ground and crawled over top of his body, kissing him, his hands undoing Falin's belt and reaching for his own.

"NO!" Harry shouted, blind rage pumping through his veins. "You do this and damn yourself to hell, Crow! In this dead world, _he is god,"_ he spat in a last stitch effort to save Falin from the man's perversion. "He controls the zombies, _he's_ the reason this little haven of yours is zombie-free. Let us leave unharmed, and I will personally beg that he extend his mercy further than you deserve and continue protecting you and your _pathetic_ little band of paedophiles!"

Crow laughed at that, standing, cruelly stepping on Falin's hand and over his limp body so he could get in Harry's face. He set a hand on either side of the boy's head, and smirked into his personal space. "Big talk for such a little boy." Harry didn't like being Crow's center of attention, but he was relieved to have at least taken the spotlight away from Falin, who Crow likely would have raped right in front of them just to make a point.

"So sure of yourself and your god?" Crow continued menacingly. He took another step into Harry's personal space, so close that Harry could smell his breath, laden with the mint leaves Crow's men liked to chew, and feel it on his nose. Harry's heart beat so terribly fast that he felt easily as though he could go into cardiac arrest.

"If your god is so almighty," Crow continued softly, dangerously, perversely stroking Harry's lips with his thumbs and looking him directly, unnervingly, in the eyes, "then before I am able to make sweet, sweet love to your ugly arse… he will wake up and save you." His lips were now brushing Harry's nose, sending chills down the boy's spine. "Care to make that bet… _Scarhead?"_

Harry swallowed hard, his breathing ragged. He found himself unable to reply through the lump in his throat, and the weight of Narcissa on his arm suddenly felt as though it had increased tenfold. He fought not to break eye contact with the man, knowing that it was exactly what Crow was aiming for; he wanted to unnerve him, to have the upper hand, always.

Though it took everything he had to say it, Harry croaked, "I have faith in him."

Crow grinned and slapped Harry appreciatively on the back, slinging an arm over his shoulder and pulling him away from the others. Without Harry's added support, Draco and Narcissa stumbled, and at Crow's command, the warriors surrounded the lot of them and subdued them. Harry shook from head to toe, stumbling along wherever Crow intended to take him, feeling as though his life had just officially ended.

Harry was flung up against the side of a hut, and then pinned there by Crow's strong arms and perverse lips.

"Go on, Scarhead," Crow panted, breaking the kiss, "beg your god to save you. Better yet, _beg me."_

Harry struggled valiantly, but most of his physical strength had left him when he had lost his arm, he didn't even come up to Crow's shoulder, and he wasn't nearly as well-fed. He could hear the others screaming and fighting their captors, his eyes landing on tiny Falin who had been tossed limply over the shoulder of some large, grinning man. Abeque and Hive were nowhere to be seen, but Draco was lashing out angrily, attempting to no avail to use his stump arm to pummel the face of a large man who was gripping his wrist tightly, quickly overpowering him despite his efforts.

Narcissa and Tooantuh (who put up valiant fights before they had been overpowered) were being dragged, kicking and screaming, off to separate huts by grinning men while Bellatrix cried after them to stop, hugging little Harri tightly to her chest and watching the scene unfold with genuine horror.

Harry felt sick, locking eyes with Crow, who was still waiting for him to beg. Prepared to sell his soul to the devil to save his friends from such a horrible fate, Harry said, "Do whatever you want t-to _me_, Crow, but please… don't let this happen to them… please… you want me to beg, this is me, begging. _Please."_

Crow grinned again, stealing another kiss that made Harry's insides squirm in revulsion. Harry felt helpless. His body, burdened with fatigue, was unable to stop what he knew was about to happen.

"Fine. Anything for you, _love._" Crow took Harry by the back of his neck and propelled him forward, calling out for his men to stop. "Change of plan, boys. I'm saving these pretty little things for later, I want a go at them myself, before you dirty lot have your way with them. Scarhead here's volunteered to take their place." He grinned and shoved Harry forward, and the boy stumbled, unable to catch himself with his only hand, and as consequence hit the ground face-first.

This was met with roaring laughter, and the men hastily tied the others up and hurried over to surround Harry, to see what their leader had planned for the poor unfortunate soul. This hadn't been what Harry meant. His bravery failed him, and he threw himself at Crow desperately, latching onto him, begging, "No, I meant _you,_ not this, please-" but Crow only shoved him back into the circle of over-eager, lustful bastards.

"A little tip for the future, Harry; don't beg. It's just pathetic." Crow grinned and began walking away.

"No!" Draco cried, battling with the bonds on his arms. He quickly managed to yank his stubbed arm free, but his healthy hand was firmly tied, and though he fought with the ropes fiercely, he could not pull himself free. He paused, panting, to watch in horror as Harry was quickly blocked from his vision by large bodies. "Fuck you! All of you! Animals!" He screamed at them, images of one of Crow's men and Hermione playing through his mind. "We never should have come back here!" He cried, attempting once more to free himself by angrily bashing his stump against the thick rope, and then attempting to untie it with his teeth.

Tooantuh flailed uselessly, unable to work herself free.

Narcissa, who was oddly calm, merely sat there, shell shocked and unable to force herself to move.

Draco's eyes landed on Falin's small body, which had been dropped carelessly, but left untied, and lay in a lifeless heap at his feet. He dropped down and shook the boy for all he was worth. "Wake up! Wake up, damn it! Falin! Please! Harry's in trouble, w-we're all in trouble, _please…"_

The boy's face remained blank, his eyes closed, and his body rocked back and forth limply each time Draco shook him. His pleas fell on deaf ears.

"Falin," Harry whimpered, curling into the foetal position as he was grabbed at by countless hands, "please… please wake up… save me..."

Hopeless as it might be, Harry could think of nothing else that could save him. And because his only hope was two and a half days into a coma, he accepted his fate with little hope to begin with.

**AN: I don't write anything more explicit than what happened to Falin and Harry in this chapter, so don't worry about reading the next, just so you know. How do you think Crow knew Harry's real name ? This whole time, he's only known him as 'Scarhead', but he called him 'Harry' just now. **

**Do you think Falin will wake up in time to save Harry from a really really horrible death ? (assuming that Crow's men will more than likely kill him, by accident or otherwise, in the process ?)**

**And Crow is truly more horrible than you thought, right ? The guy gets more and more vile each time I write him into a chapter. Ah well. The Apocalypse brings out the worst in people. For the record, I hope he dies slowly on a roasted spit.**

**AS PER NORMAL, VISIT THE MIGHTY SLYTHERINS WIKI TO READ MORE ON THE CHARACTERS**


	22. Chapter 22

"Falin," Harry whimpered, curling into the foetal position as he was grabbed at by countless hands, "please… please wake up… save me..."

Hopeless as it might be, Harry could think of nothing else that could save him. And because his only hope was two and a half days into a coma, he accepted his fate with little hope to begin with.

He was a heartbeat away from curling into a corner of his mind and resigning himself to what was happening when a shrill cry shocked him out of it and gave him a sliver of desperate hope. It was enough to force his weak body to begin struggling against the hands once more.

"NO!"

The voice belonged to Bellatrix, who threw herself onto the back of one of the men and beat at his head angrily. She was flung away easily. Unready and unwilling to give up, she dug herself into the middle of all the chaos with another angry shriek, slapping away hands and falling backwards on top of Harry, battling off hands that now grabbed at her.

"STOP!" Crow commanded as soon as he became aware that his beloved was in the middle of the fiasco. "I SAID STOP!" It took a couple more shouts before Crow took out his gun and shot one of his men right in the head.

Finally, the overeager crowd obeyed and took a step back from Harry, Bellatrix, and the dead body that now lay there with his brains splattered on the ground in front of him.

Harry didn't register that he was sobbing, or that he was clinging to himself and the clothing he still wore, some of which had been ripped off. All he could focus on was the sudden silence, and the phantom hands that he could still feel everywhere.

"Bella, get out of the way!" Crow ordered, his voice softening only because it was her.

"Crow, please?" She begged, curling up beside the boy and wrapping her arms around him. Despite himself, Harry clung to her in terror. She was now his only lifeline. He held his breath and watched Crow with wide, desperate eyes, and he prayed that he would listen to the woman's pleas.

Crow hesitated, then looked to his men who he feared he would not be able to control for much longer. "Bella. Get out of the way. Now." His voice was more firm this time, and his eyes were hardened. "My men think I'm selfish enough as it is, keeping you to myself. I'm not going to deny them this."

Bellatrix's dark eyes filled with tears, and she buried her face into the top of Harry's head, wrapping her legs around his waist and locking her ankles, curling more tightly around him. Harry hid his face into her neck and closed his eyes, taking in a raspy breath while tensions continued to rise around him. He tried to form some kind of protective mental wall, but there was nothing to build with. It was all he could do to keep from relinquishing the contents of his stomach to the cold ground his body was pressed against.

Crow gave Bellatrix an exasperated growl, his eyes beginning to flair up with visible anger. "Get her off of him. Don't hurt her. Hurt her and you can join Angus in the afterlife," he pointed to the dead man at his feet, "I'll punish her myself, later."

One of the men obeyed, grabbing at Bellatrix and attempting to pry her away from Harry to no avail. It took two of them, one holding Harry the other pulling on Bellatrix, to yank her away, and even then, she screamed and fought to get a better hold on Harry, refusing to be separated from him. Harry became convinced. Her genuine desperation made the truth self-evident. This woman was Bella. Bellatrix was no more.

Bella let out a yelp of pain, angrily fighting to keep her hold on Harry who did the same in return, knowing that if there was a prayer of a chance to avoid a horrible death so long as Bella was near him, he would be damned if he let go of her.

Having had enough, Crow was pushing men aside, ready to pull her away himself. He didn't even lay a hand on either of them when Harry suddenly became aware of a blinding light and a deafening sound. Crow and his men were sent flying in all directions, and little Falin stood suddenly in the midst, clutching his wand with a dangerous, fiery glint in his eyes. His eyes literally appeared to be on fire. They glowed a bright golden colour that was a startling contrast to his normally black irises.

Trembling with shock, Harry sat up and shakily tried to dry his eyes with fingers caked in dirt. He only managed to leave dirty smudges on his tear-streaked cheeks. Bella sat up alongside him, her dark eyes enormous and staring at her son as though he were the one true god. "You're awake…" she breathed, unraveling herself from Harry and reaching out to her son.

Harry would have offered his thanks, had he not found his vocal cords were strained to the max from all the screaming; he hadn't even realised he'd been screaming. Shaken to the core, he merely watched numbly as the fire vanished from Falin's eyes in the form of a golden ray. It left his body, and the boy's eyes rolled back, his body went utterly limp, and he hit the ground with a dull thud. Bella cried out and rushed to his side.

Harry followed the golden ray with his gaze as it floated up into the trees and entered Hive's eyes. The lanky non-human's limp body reanimated, and jumped down from the tree.

"Oh my god…" Tooantuh whispered, eyes wide.

"How… how did you do that?" Draco asked, cradling his bloody stump to his chest. He'd reopened the old wound by bashing it against his captors. He'd also made his lips and gums bleed whilst attempting to yank the ties loose with his teeth. The blood was a bright, stark contrast against his pallor.

Of course, Hive didn't reply, merely smiled at them with their glowing eyes, and quietly untied their bonds.

"Wait… was that Falin, or was that you?" Tooantuh asked, tossing the ropes aside and rushing to help Harry to his feet. She looked around at all the bodies, groaning and ebbing on consciousness.

Predictably, Hive did not reply in any way, instead collected Falin's limp body from the ground and watched as Tooantuh and Draco supported Narcissa. Harry couldn't be expected to after what he had just been through. It was all he could do to stay upright, all he could do not to march over to Crow's unconscious body and strangle him with his bare hand. He hadn't the energy to spare for it, which he found an utter shame in its own right.

"Questions later. Let's get the hell out of here," Draco whispered urgently, allowing Harry to cling to his injured arm as they went. Not one of them was left unshaken by the entire ordeal, which had gone down in less than twenty minutes at most. Harry's mind was too numb to even bother collecting his jacket and the half of his shirt that had been ripped away by Crow's men.

Abeque was waiting for them in the woods just passed their old camp, urging them to hurry up and carrying what they had dropped when they had first been captured. "Hive and I escaped while they were grabbing everybody," she explained in a rushed, breathless voice as she hurried after them.

"Save the story for later, Abby. We've got to put some distance between us and them before they wake up." Tooantuh said with whispered urgency. She and Draco were practically dragging Narcissa, who couldn't keep up with their quickened pace on her single leg.

The whole ordeal was terrifyingly familiar to Harry. The last time he had left Crow's camp it had been in a manner similar to this. It took him a moment to realise that Cheerful, Bellatrix and Harri, two other half-naked women with bound wrists, and a young man with a gleam of terror in his eyes were all running alongside them, taking the chance to break free of Crow and his perverted clan.

Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of gratitude towards Bella, despite his misgivings with her. Bella certainly was not the same woman that had murdered all those people… Harry only wondered if Bella was here to stay, or if Bellatrix would eventually make a reappearance.

It wasn't something his overloaded mind could dwell on in that moment, and he focused instead on running.

Their overworked, undernourished bodies could only carry them so far before giving out. They ran until just before dawn, and by the time the sun had risen high in the sky, all of them had collapsed out of sheer exhaustion, on the outskirts of the same little patch of dead forest that Harry, Hermione, and the others had taken shelter in the first time they had run away from Crow.

"I can't… go on…" Tooantuh gasped.

Harry silently agreed, coughing up a lung, and Draco offered his support of the notion by puking his guts out in the ashy bushes.

"I feel sick," Abeque whined, draped across Tooantuh's lap, clutching her aching sides, and Bella and Harri slumped together against a tree. Cheerful and the other two women stayed a short ways behind them, too paranoid to join their group, but far too afraid to go their own way. The young man kept separated from both groups, but also seemed too frightened to go off on his own.

Hive appeared to be the least affected by all the running. They merely sat down cross-legged, tiny Falin curled in their embrace. Their heaving chest was the only indication that they'd been running at all.

When Draco caught his breath, he slumped down and pulled his mother close, feverishly attending to her need to be close to him. The woman held onto her son like he was a lifeline, still coughing and choking. "Are… are you okay, love? Draco?" She begged, clutching at him desperately, and he could only nod, completely out of breath while she planted a trembling kiss on his sweaty, dirty temple.

"Do you think they'll catch us?" Abeque asked, her expression weary and anxiety-ridden, looking up at Tooantuh who slumped sideways, resting her body against a fallen, rotting tree.

"No… no sweet...heart… no…" Tooantuh replied breathlessly, wearily patting Abeque's head.

Falin looked easily as though he were just sleeping. Like he had just closed his eyes and fallen asleep, and would wake up at any time. But his eyes remained closed, his limp body curled in Hive's lap, his tiny hand resting in the dirt, unfeeling of the grain against his flesh.

All these things passed through Harry's weary mind as he choked on his own ragged breathing, his sweaty cheek pressed to the same ashy earth as Falin's pallid hand, so close to Harry's face, that he could actually make out the dark veins under the waxy white flesh. Harry reached forward, his hand so shaky from exhaustion that it took him two tries before he had a firm hold of Falin's wrist. His breathing was so haggard that he had to hold it for a moment so it didn't interfere as he attempted to check Falin's pulse.

"How's he doing?" Tooantuh asked weakly. She leaned forward, ready to check on him herself, but she instantly fell back, groaning and putting a hand to the stitch in her side.

"His… pulse is really weak," Harry replied tiredly. He wiped his sweaty hand off on his trousers so he could feel of Falin's skin again. "He's cold."

Tooantuh was silent for a moment, trying to make her tired eyes focus, trying to think. "Uh… I'd say…" she leant her head back and just lay there for a moment, thinking, catching her breath, and reveling in the feeling of her racing heart causing every inch of her body to throb in protest. "If he doesn't wake up in the next couple days… I don't… I don't think he will." She turned her head sideways to Narcissa, who looked half-dead from the journey; her jaw hung open as she panted, and her face was shiny with sweat.

"Do you recall… how long he was in comas before?"

Narcissa groaned and adjusted her position, managing to force her parched throat to swallow before she replied. "Uh. No more than three days… he was in at least four comas in his life before now... that I can think of."

Tooantuh nodded and turned back to Harry. "Give him another couple days. If he doesn't wake up, I don't… well, I don't think he will."

Harry sighed softly, feeling his heartbeat and breathing evening out, and his eyes were locked on the boy's sleeping face once more, nestled safely against Hive's lap. Harry forced himself to sit up, and he slid back and leant against a tree, feeling light-headed. "All right then Hive… how did you do it? Back at Crow's camp? You… possessed Falin's body…"

Hive was silent, gently re-adjusting their hold on Falin, turning the boy on his back, brushing his black hair out of his face. They slipped a hand under the back of Falin's neck, tilting his head back slightly.

Hive leant back against a tree and let their head fall back, their eyes opened wide. A bright, golden light escaped their eyes and hovered in the air for a moment before it flew into Falin's, and his body sat upright. His eyes flew open, and slowly, the inky black pigment was replaced by gold.

Everyone was again awed by the sight.

"Falin…?" Harry asked softly, wondering if whatever Hive was doing was waking him up, or if they were putting their own consciousness into Falin's comatose body, or perhaps switching souls with him.

Before replying, the boy refastened his belt, which had been undone by Crow the night before. The silence of the moment was almost unbearably tense, and his fingers were slow and deliberate, as if he were thinking very deeply about why the belt was unfastined to begin with.

"Falin sleeps," he eventually responded, slowly dragging the back of his hand over his lips, to rid whatever was left of Crow there. It was Falin's voice, but he spoke far softer than Falin tended to. The way he sat, his back ramrod straight (as opposed to Falin's slouch) and his slow, deliberate movements (as opposed to Falin's quick, brash ones) were obvious indicators that they were dealing with Hive and not Falin.

"Is he going to die? Can you tell?" Bella asked worriedly, moving forward to clutch at Hive's hand desperately.

Hive took the woman's hand in both of their own (or rather, Falin's own, but for the sake of not giving himself a headache, Harry tried not to think of those kinds of semantics). Hive's body sat lifelessly behind them, appearing rather dead. To test this theory, Harry subtly reached out and felt of Hive's wrist, and there was no pulse.

"You're dead?" Harry asked softly, confused.

Hive's golden eyes turned to him, and their tiny hands slipped free of Bella's. "My soul is not in my body. Just as if your soul left your body, it would not live, my soul lives and my body does not." They turned back to Bella, their expression softening. "I'm afraid that he is dying. He is attempting to heal himself from the inside, while he sleeps. He is very powerful. I have faith that he will succeed."

Harry let out a slow breath, leaning back until his head was using Draco's knee as a pillow. He was no longer able to keep himself upright, and barely managed to keep his eyelids open and his mind tuned in to what mattered. For some reason, it kept wandering off to trivial nonsense. Focusing was suddenly a very difficult task. "Is he aware? Does he... know what's going on around him? Will... will he remember what... Crow did to him?"

Hive shook their head slowly. "I do not believe he is even aware of the existence of the world outside of his mind."

"Good," Harry interjected softly, staring blindly up at the sky, thinking of what Crow had done, and feeling the anger simmer. "Good…"

Hive raised an eyebrow at that. "Not good," they countered passively. "He can't perceive the outside world because he is too deeply gone. His subconscious is entirely focused on healing his broken body. His mind is terribly damaged."

Harry shook his head slowly. "I didn't… I just meant I'm glad he won't remember…" He silently wished he could forget, self-consciously scrubbing at his own lips. He would never ever like the taste of mint again.

Hive tipped their head to the side thoughtfully. "Because Crow allowed himself to be so easily distracted from violating Falin, I can't help but wonder if he had really intended to go through with it, though I perceived long ago that Crow does things to assert dominance to himself, to keep his word, to maintain a consistent level of power. If his men see him any other way, they would certainly rebel."

Harry shrugged in response. "All I know is that he's a bastard, and he likely would have done it if I hadn't-"

"If you hadn't nearly gotten yourself gangraped," Draco muttered tastelessly, his voice croaky from anger, dehydration, and exhaustion.

Harry huffed at that, suddenly longing for a time when he could fold his arms and look cross. He settled for hugging his side and glaring at the ground. "I saved all of you, you mean."

"I think Hive's the one who did that," Abeque cut in defensively.

Hive shook their head slowly. "You didn't save them, you prolonged the inevitable. Had I not been able to intervene, all of you would have eventually become sex slaves to Crow or his men."

"Why are we arguing?" Tooantuh threw her hands up, and weariness paired with gravity brought them swiftly back down. "Harry saved us from forced prostitution, thank you Harry! Hive saved Harry from dying horribly, thank you Hive! Can we move on please?"

Everyone was silent, bristling for one reason or another. Harry didn't even know why he was so defensive, he just felt ill in every sense of the word, vaguely emotional, and still very shaken.

"Do you know what's wrong with him, then?" Tooantuh changed the topic back to Falin, wondering if Hive could detect the problem from their vantage point in the boy's head.

Hive was silent for a moment, their eyes traveling upwards and to the left and the right, as if they were reading something out of thin air. "I believe the medical term would be a 'Coup-Contrecoup Injury'," they replied slowly. "Second Impact Syndrome, as well, due to his… many previous head injuries."

"What does that mean?" Bella asked, looking to Tooantuh for guidance.

Tooantuh did not look pleased with the news. "Uh.. it's... when the force impacting the head is not only great enough to cause a contusion at the site of impact, but... also is able to move the brain and cause it to slam into the opposite side of the skull, which causes an additional contusion… so he's got a contusion on the site of impact, whatever hit his head… and another on the other side, where his brain literally jolted out of place and hit the inside of his skull."

Everyone cringed just a little bit at the sound of it.

"Blimey," Draco whispered, "I just want to know what the devil he's been doing all month."

"Surviving," Harry supplied dully, "and then some."

A moment of perceived silence enslaved them, in which time everyone contemplated everything that had gone down the past several months.

"Will he be able to heal that on his own?" Bella asked fearfully, her eyes wide, her hand reaching for her son's again.

Hive looked at the woman sadly. "I don't know. Your son is…" they shook their head, eyes widening in awe, "far more powerful than any being I have ever encountered... if anyone can survive such an injury, I do believe he can."

Bella seemed only a little bit appeased by the news, and slumped down until her head was in her son's lap, clutching his hands tightly and pressing them to her face. Hive stared down at the woman as though startled. They didn't appear to know how to deal with her, so they merely sat there, motionless.

Everyone watched in silence, unsure what to make of the motherly act. Such a thing would never have even crossed the mind of the Bellatrix they all knew.

Draco and Harry shared a glance, and Narcissa merely stared at her sister, unsure how to feel about anything anymore. Were it not for the constant fear that Bella would eventually fade away and be replaced by Bellatrix, Narcissa felt as though she could grow to dearly love her sister. As it were, she was far too afraid of losing Bella to risk becoming attached to her.

"Well…" Tooantuh dug into the bag that Abeque had carried, full of their supplies. "Falin hasn't eaten anything in two days. Here, eat this, so his body won't become malnourished."

Hive pried one of their hands free of Bella's grasp so they could take the food and eat it. As they ate, they looked around slowly, taking in their surroundings. "I'm afraid it's a bit too late for that; Falin is already on the brink of starvation. His body and mind are so unhealthy, it's a wonder he isn't dead yet. I feel strongly as though the unfathomable amount of magic in his body is the only thing keeping him alive. He hasn't eaten anything in at least a week and a half. Some of his organs have shut down, and are damaged in such a way that I don't believe that he's ever eaten a proper meal in his life." They took another casual bite of the food, still mulling over Falin's physical health.

Everyone sat and listened in silence. It wasn't as though Falin would have ever told them any of this himself. Learning more about the mystery boy was fascinating, though Harry had to admit he felt like this was somehow an invasion of Falin's privacy.

"The injuries on his body are consistent with physical abuse, as recent as early this year, I'd say. His most recent injuries are likely from the war and the apocalypse…" They paused, tipping their head curiously to the side and placing a hand against Falin's ribs. "His ribs were broken more recently than that, though, perhaps in a physical brawl. Someone kicked him, I'd say. A few times."

Draco and Harry shared a glance. "Ron?" Harry guessed, and Draco nodded in agreement. When Ron had nearly beaten Falin to death, and Falin had refused medical help from Tooantuh, specifically.

"Are his ribs fully healed?" Draco asked softly, curious if Falin had even bothered to heal himself, or if he'd allowed himself to suffer the pain of broken ribs as some kind of absurd self-punishment. He well remembered that Falin was prone to doing it for as long as he could remember.

Hive shook their head. "No, they're not."

Harry suddenly remembered the other day, when he'd awoken Falin by kicking him in the ribs. All though he obviously hadn't kicked him hard, he still felt guilty, remembering the pain that had passed over Falin's expression. Broken ribs healed naturally over approximately six weeks. It had been about four. Which meant that Falin hadn't done anything to heal them on his own, even though he was far more than capable of doing so.

"Why on earth would he allow himself to endure such agony?" Harry murmured, utterly appalled by the realisation.

"He hates himself," said Narcissa dully, leaning back against her son, "he always has." Her eyes were locked on her sister, who was a large reason why the boy loathed himself so, why he had so many physical and mental problems. It was part of the reason why Narcissa couldn't find it within herself to fully forgive Bellatrix; for the utter hell she put her children, namely Falin, though.

"Poor bastard," Draco muttered, closing his eyes and attempting to get comfortable.

Something about it all didn't sit well in Harry's stomach. He couldn't get comfortable using Draco's bony knee as a pillow. His lungs hurt, his heart was sore, his legs ached. He was physically and mentally exhausted. But sleep evaded him that night.

…

Hours of walking without much rest reduced their group to a huddle of exhausted teens and one very droopy dog.

"Hermione?" Ron whispered, staring up at the ceiling of the crumbling building that they had sheltered themselves in for the night.

"Mm?" Hermione hummed in response, her head resting on his chest. She had scarcely separated herself from him since they had been reunited.

"I'm glad you found me. I'm glad you're still alive. I don't know how I would have survived without you." Ron wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Ginny had fallen asleep curled up with Nantan and Chance, so she didn't need his attention at the moment, and he was more than happy to divert it wholly to Hermione.

Hermione smiled tiredly, but was too exhausted to reply. She fell soundly asleep with a genuine smile on her face.

Ron turned his head to look at Velcro, who was lying quietly with his head resting on Ron's knee, watching him with big, intelligent brown eyes. "Good boy," Ron murmured softly, falling asleep with the image of Velcro's tail wagging gently against his foot.

The next morning was dedicated to avoiding zombies and picking the safest paths to travel. Hermione kept close to the path she had taken coming away from the glen, so as to avoid becoming lost.

They crossed paths with a small group of seven traveling survivors towards the end of their day, and made camp with them. They were three middle aged men and four middle aged women, all athletic and sturdy. They seemed nice enough, but showed little interest from the start in joining their group. The two groups parted ways the next morning, after the older group offered some friendly advice and traded some food for some of the clothing that they had collected in the last town they had passed through.

"We plan to settle down at the next city we find, so if you're ever in trouble, just head this way, and you'll eventually find us."

"Thank you. There's a town in that direction that still has some supplies that we couldn't bring with us. And just to warn you, there's a group of survivors that way as well. Their leader calls himself Crow, and his followers wear masks… very unfriendly. We barely escaped them with our lives." Hermione's eyes were on the ground for a moment, feeling irrational panic set in for a moment before she felt Ron's hand grip her shoulder gently, grounding her, and she felt safe again.

"Thanks for the warning. There's a group of cannibals about a week's journey in that direction, and we've spotted a pack of savage, infected dogs wandering around that area; I suggest you avoid them, as well."

"Oh, definitely. Safe travels," Hermione bid them, waving as the group took their leave and continued on.

"It's nice to know not everyone's turned evil because of the apocalypse," Ron murmured, watching them go. Hermione agreed, silently wishing them well. "You know, other than the cannibals, Crow, and the savage dogs."

Hermione sighed and turned back to the path, drawing in a deep breath and slowly releasing it. "How are our supplies doing?"

"We've got enough food for at least three weeks now, if we make it last," Chance told them after taking stock of what they already had, and what the other group had traded them. "We're completely out of medical supplies, though, and we traded most of our fabric for food."

"We're used to small portions by now, I'd say." Ron helped her pack it all up, and slung it over his shoulder.

"Ron, I can carry it, it's no trouble." Chance tried to take the bag back from him.

"I'm fine, I've got it."

"But you can't carry it and Ginny!" Hermione insisted.

"Ginny is walking for herself." Ron helped his sister up, and she clung to his arm, unsteady on her feet. "At least for a little while. She insisted. You tell me, the moment it's too much for you, all right Gin'?"

Ginny nodded, taking a slow step forward.

"I've got a better idea," Hermione told them, giving Ron her bag as well. "Come on, Chance. Ginny can walk between you and I."

"I've got it!" Ron seemed offended, for some reason.

"Honestly, Ron. This isn't a blow to your masculinity, it's common sense. You've carried her for months now. You need a break. We've got her."

Ron reluctantly let Chance and Hermione help Ginny along, contenting himself to merely carrying the two bags that contained everything in the world that the five of them owned. The dog trotted at his heels, panting, but keeping pace with them.

Ginny did well. She managed to walk with their assistance for half a mile before Ron handed off the two bags to Chance and Nantan, and started carrying her again. She fell asleep almost instantly.

"It's a good sign, yeah?" Ron asked, looking to Hermione who walked at his shoulder.

"It's very good," Hermione agreed, stepping over some fallen branches that had been long ago burnt to a crisp.

"She got some exercise, didn't pass out, didn't seem to be dizzy or anything." He couldn't help the grin on his face, bragging on his precious little sister. He was so proud of her.

"Trees, up ahead," Chance called from the front, pointing.

Everyone stopped to look, seeing the greenery on the horizon.

"Not much further now," Nantan whispered, her voice laced with excited anticipation.

"One step at a time, then." Everyone felt as though their breaths were being metaphorically held, despite all of them breathing heavily from the long journey. Their eyes were locked on their new home, growing closer and closer with each weary step they took. The lot of them stopped just outside the green forest, standing with their toes on the edge of the discernible line where the desert ended, and the forest began.

"Wait," Ginny murmured, squirming until Ron set her down. "I want to walk in, on my own."

Everyone took in a deep breath, and Nantan couldn't resist reaching out to touch a vibrant, green leaf.

Suddenly possessed by a great joy, Hermione took Ron's hand, and then Ginny's, and they started running as fast as their weak legs could carry them. Laughter filled their lungs, and they raced through the glen, happiness filling their hearts. They had made it!

"Water! My god, it's so beautiful!" Ron called, falling onto his chest at the bank and putting his entire face down into the cool, clear liquid.

Ginny did him one up by falling entirely into the water and splashing around, smiling for the first time in a long, long time.

"We made it! By God, we made it!" Chance dropped her things and stripped down to the skin so she could dive into the water without a care in the world.

It was pure bliss. After undressing to each of their own comfort levels, the rest joined her in the lake, drinking their fill, and feeling their parched skin rejoice at the glorious relief the water brought.

Joy and laughter made energised them, and they spent the energy splashing, tackling, and hanging off of each other.

"What a fuss you lot are making, one might think you haven't seen water in months!" A voice sobered them all very quickly, and they huddled together and squinted to see a figure on the other side of the bank.

The first to recognise the person, Hermione squealed, "Neville!" and began thrashing around until she'd waded out of the water. She threw her soaked body up against his and nearly toppling him over in a hug. Ron was soon to follow, picking them both up and laughing in delight.

Neville laughed and hugged them back. "You're alive! I can't believe it! We just got here about an hour ago! You mustn't have been far behind us!"

Ron took his friend by the shoulders, grinning like mad. "Harry's with you then, yeah? And Luna?"

Neville's smile faded just a bit, and he glanced over his shoulder at Luna, who was running like mad towards them from the other side of the glen. "Just… Luna, I'm afraid." Neville murmured, turning back to them. "Haven't seen Harry or anyone else since we were separated."

"Ron! Hermione!" Luna called, catching up to them and nearly knocking them over in a hug. "You're alive!"

Hermione and Ron's glee had been subdued a fair bit by the sobering reality that they may never again see their best friend. Nevertheless, they truly were happy to see Neville and Luna again, and avoided being swallowed by their sorrows by engulfing themselves in celebrating their new home with the friends they still had.

Neville and Luna happily introduced them to Jase and his family, and then they had a meal together. The first real meal any of them had-had since the apocalypse had begun.

Rhoda had caught six fish in the lake, which was in the very middle of the glen, fed by the river that had brought Hermione there from the caves. Jase had cleaned and cooked the fish, and with canned foods heated up as side-dishes, everyone went to sleep with full stomachs, and full hearts.

The only thing that was missing, in the moments before Ron and Hermione fell asleep, was the kind smile, and the vibrant green eyes they so desperately wanted to see again.

AN:** So... it's been a while. Like two months. I have been so damn busy ! I hope you like this chapter. What do you think of Hive's unusual ability ? Do you think Bella will turn back into Bellatrix eventually ? Do you think Falin has any chance of waking up ? Will Crow try to track them down ? PLEASE REVIEW !**


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